


Unusual ending

by herumtreiber



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU of HBP, Action/Adventure, Alternate Reality, Angst and Humor, Cover Art, Death Eaters, Embedded Video, Fanvids, Haiku, Horcruxes, M/M, Mystery, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-11-25 21:33:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 110,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/643190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herumtreiber/pseuds/herumtreiber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry walks all over his lover's heart, and after Draco leaves him, someone turns up and advices Harry  to go back in time and try again. Yet, things are not what they seem at all as Voldemort's plans threaten Hogwarts.<br/>During HBP, disregards Deathly Hallows, and everyone's alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The old timeline

**March 15th, 1997 - during Sixth Year**

Tomorrow would be the six-month anniversary of their relationship, such as it was. Draco's companion (for Potter could not be considered a boyfriend, not if Draco was honest with himself) would likely spend the day with him, he thought.

So it was that after their lovemaking, the fateful question was uttered. Draco said "What have you planned for tomorrow, Harry, do you want to go to the Three Broomsticks with me?"

Harry looked floored and uncomfortable, but soon recuperated his cool and assumed a nonchalant mask. If one looked deeply enough, one would see that the mask was real, that he was detached because he didn't care for this conversation.

"Hmm," he said "Ron and Hermione asked me to go with them. Reckon I really should, after all, I don't want to lose you," said Harry with a small smirk gracing his features.

Draco felt exhilarated and nervous at the same time. It seemed that Harry cared about him after all. "Why would you lose me, Harry, I'll stay with you no matter what anyone says, and you know it."

The next words that Harry uttered would shake the core of their relationship and sink their liaison into deep uproar. It would not be possible for both of them to remain unscathed, emotionally. One of them would bear the consequences for these words for the rest of his life.

"No," said Harry. "What I meant is that seeing us together, Ron and Mione would ask questions, they would discover that we're seeing each other, and probably make me choose between you all. I'd rather things stayed as they are and not give you up."

Draco felt a frisson of fear travel down his spine. He felt a slight buzzing in his ears, and his temper, which had been carefully subdued and tamed during their entire relationship, began to fray at the edges. Feelings he had long harboured and tried to ignore caught fire. A sense of dread and, funnily enough, resolution, filled him.

So this is what it all came down to. Six years of rivalry; half a year of passionate trysts, all became condensed like a water drop about to fall from the faucet. Draco's passion and pride, long neglected, inexorably drew downwards to fall against the floor and explode, becoming something entirely new.

"I see, Potter." Draco frowned and fisted his hands. He scowled at Harry, and his grey eyes glimmered with the light of a hopeless winter storm, pinning Harry with a cool glare. "So when it comes down to it, you would choose your friends over me, if they asked you to."

"Of course," said Harry. "I have shared six and a half years of adventures with them; they are my best friends, my mates. Although what we enjoy is great, and I mean great," here Harry paused and felt a twitch in his nether regions, remembering the many nights of passion when he would be buried to the hilt in Draco. "I could not give them up. I like what we have, and I'd rather keep it a secret, if you don't mind."

Draco felt his anger rising as Harry talked. He thought about the times when he had told Harry that he loved him, never getting any response from him, the times he asked him to let him top, only to be rebuffed and left waiting. He recalled the rendezvous in the dark, wary of the shadows, careful not to let anyone know that they were lovers.

He suspected Harry looked down on him and considered him inferior, fit only to be used and discarded. He had always harboured the hope that someday it would change, that Harry would see how Draco really was and fall in love with him, or at least have some deep feeling for him.

He could see clearly now that this would not ever happen; Harry was too stubborn and arrogant to consider him his equal. All Harry wanted was a pliant hole, someone who would be a good lay and would shut up afterwards. Sure, Harry liked them with spunk and spirit; after all, not anyone could claim to be fucked by the Boy-who-lived. Yet they ought not to have too much independence, for he liked to be in charge. Oh yes, he liked to command his lover. Harry would say when and if they saw each other, who knew about them, and just about everything about their intimacy.

Draco looked steadily at Harry. "I've had enough, Potter. If you love your friends so much, stay with them, maybe they will let you fuck them. Now get out."

Harry was startled. He looked at Draco and, summoning inner peace, said condescendingly, "Now now Draco, no need to get upset. Sleep on it, and tomorrow you will see that I'm right. We have to be careful about who knows about us. I need you too much, and I know you need me."

Harry expected it to be like the other times they argued. Draco would fume and grumble a bit, but eventually he would see things Harry's way, like happened in all their fights.

Hopefully, tomorrow night Draco would be in his bed, and he would fuck him senseless practically in front of his roommates, without them knowing anything, as it should be. Harry got dressed quickly and left the room mumbling to himself. At the door, he looked back and saw Draco, his hair shining in the moonlight, his eyes aglow with the erstwhile heat of his passion.

If he had known that was the last time he would ever see Draco in an intimate setting, he would have looked more carefully, treasured the look. But then, he always underestimated Draco.

Draco watched Harry leave, sadness brimming in his eyes. Unlike Harry, he was aware of the unique quality of this moment, and hated the thought of losing Harry, of never being with him again, never having sex with him. However, much as he feared leaving Harry, he feared more the constant dragging and exhausting loss of his dignity, his manhood even, his courage and pride. Surrendering to Harry in almost everything, letting him fuck him whenever he pleased as his secret lover - the one not worthy of the attention of the public, friends, and mentor.

\--

* * *

The following Saturday Draco forced himself to go to Hogsmeade and mingle, even though he felt lonely and sad. He saw Harry sitting companionably with Granger and Weasley, animatedly talking about Quidditch, it seemed. Only once did Harry look in his direction, and he was careful not to pay too much attention to the blond god sitting not far from him, seemingly absorbed in the wonderful world of Quidditch and his friends.

Harry did not suffer as much as Draco that day, for he felt confident that Draco would cave in and beg him to come back. Harry would make him pay, maybe a spanking. He toyed with the idea of spanking Draco in front of his friends, in the Gryffindor common room. He imagined the satiny feel of his buttocks as his hand collided with them, his friends clapping and whistling, and the look of utter humiliation in Draco's face.

Yes, that would be priceless. Harry would break his pride once and for all. He felt he was near. So far Draco had given up whenever Harry wanted him to. Even though he frequently asked him to top, he was content with the excuses Harry gave him. And as for wanting the whole world to know they were lovers, didn't Draco have an ounce of common sense? He was, after all, the Boy-who-lived. He could not be gay; furthermore, he could not be seeing the son of Lucius Malfoy, no matter that the father was in prison and Draco had totally renounced the Dark Lord and worked as a spy for the Light.

Surely Draco would be content with being the repository of his affections. He would soon feel the need of Harry claiming him, of Harry filling him like he had not been filled before. His cock twitched again at the thought of smooth, pliant pale skin, ready to be breached and conquered. It was the natural state of things.

So it went for a week. Each day Harry was a little less secure, a little less confident in his god-like powers of persuasion.

Draco remained firm, if sad. In fact, he seemed in better health, his cheeks rosier and his step livelier as if a weight had been lifted from him. He could be seen laughing with Pansy, roughhousing with Crabbe and Goyle, exchanging gossip with Blaise, all of whom had been discarded in his overwhelming obsession with Potter. His friends welcomed him back with open arms, and openly supported his decision to leave Harry, telling him he had done the right thing. He could still fight and spy for the light if he wanted to, free from the constraints of a selfish lover. His grades went up, and even Granger and Weasley noticed his buoyant mood.

Of course, they suspected that Harry and Draco had something going on, they were not dumb, especially Hermione. They were expecting Harry to tire of the relationship and break with Draco. They knew he would never betray them or give them up in favour of Draco.

They also knew how much Harry valued his independence, his pride, his confidence. Draco was too cocky for them, and if Harry treated him roughly and eventually broke him, who was he to complain? Just Death Eater scum, as Ron constantly teased Draco during the months of the relationship, while Harry looked neutrally between them, apparently bored with the insults, but never reprehending his friend or trying to curb his over-the-board taunting.

Ron tested the waters, saying to Harry during breakfast on Friday, "Harry, don't you think the Ferret looks too cheery? Is he planning some Death Eater trap?"

Harry choked, and after spitting a bit of toast and looking longingly at the Slytherin table, he said, "I'm not sure Ron. Whatever you say, you keep him under observation."

Ron huffed and looked meaningfully at Hermione. They would have to shake Harry from his lethargy or he would become too morose. A Ferret distraction was in order.

When the Golden Trio was walking down the dungeons for the Double Potions class, Ron nearly ran, dragging Hermione and Harry with him, hoping to catch Malfoy and taunt him, effectively lifting Harry's spirits by making fun of his enemy, or his lover, who cared?

On meeting Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, Ron sneered, "Hey, watch it, Ferret face, what's with you being all jolly, planning to break Daddy out of Azkaban? Not much of his mind left, so why do it?"

Harry looked expectantly at Draco, and a light seemed to flicker in his emerald eyes. Ron fully expected Draco to grimace and move on, like he had been doing the last months. If shagging one's enemy led to Harry getting what he wanted, Ron was all for Harry shagging You-Know-Who. It might end the war.

Draco had acquiesced to Harry's petition that he leave his friends alone. Of course, Ron always ignored Harry's pleas and harassed Draco. Seeing as how Harry just nodded and let him be, one would think that the situation was less than fair. In the relationship of the Seekers, it often was the case.

Draco looked at Ron stoically, and then he scowled and drawled, "Well, it is our dear moRon and Whoremione. Pray tell, why do you even care about my mood?"

Ron was enraged, and his face was as red as his hair. "What did you call her?"

"Hermione, isn't that the name of 'the smartest bitch in her generation'? Excuse me, I mean witch," Draco said.

Ron moved towards Draco and lifted his arm, swinging his hand towards Malfoy's face. If it had landed it would surely have broken his nose, but Goyle stopped the fist just two inches from Draco's face. He yanked Ron, hurling him towards the wall.

Just when Ron had taken out his wand to curse Draco and muttered the beginning of the Cruciatus curse, Severus Snape walked towards them, his robes dramatically billowing whilst the Head of Slytherin bellowed, "Mr. Weasley, detention with Filch for a month and 50 points from Gryffindor. Now all of you brats get in."

The students entered the classroom. Harry was astounded, because he had expected Draco to meekly acquiesce, as he had been doing all along. It would have been a sign that Draco was sorry for his intemperate (in Harry's point of view) outburst and that he was ready for a reconciliation; which of course Harry would grant after suitably chastising Malfoy. This newly assertive Malfoy was unnerving, Harry didn't know what to expect anymore, and a little more of his confidence crumbled.

After class, Harry hurried to catch Malfoy. "Draco, I want to speak with you."

Draco glared. "Potter, you and I have nothing to say to each other. We never had and never will." He shuddered at the painful truth of his words.

Harry, seeing that Malfoy was leaving, swallowed his pride. "I need to speak with you, Malfoy, please?"

Draco, knowing how obstinate Harry was, dragged him farther along the hallway, outside hearing range of Crabbe and Goyle. "Well, what do you want, Potter?"

"Come on, Draco, don't you miss me?" said Harry. "Don't you miss being mine? I'm willing to go back with you and we will forget this ever happened."

Draco glared at Harry. With practiced Malfoy poise and his patented smirk, he said, "I admit I miss your cock, Potter, and that is all of you that I miss. If I could have it alone I would be happy. But it comes with the whole package and I have found that the price is just too much."

Draco took a deep breath and said in a rush, "Yes, I was yours, but you were never mine. It was all one-sided, you claimed me as yours, but whenever we stopped shagging I was not worth of your attention."

"But, Draco!"

Malfoy ignored him and went on. "I'm tired of living in the shadows, always doing what you want. I will find someone else that can love me some day and you will find someone who is completely yours, to the point of extinction."

Draco walked away and rejoined Crabbe and Goyle, leaving for his next class, Arithmancy. Harry watched Draco drawing away with a painful thud in his heart, recognising for the first time the severity of the situation. He saw that it would be very hard, if not impossible, to go back with Draco.

He remembered all the times they shagged, the passion and hunger that drove them together. The difference between them was that Draco acknowledged the hunger and submitted to it, wanting to become part of the whole. Harry never did that, pretending that it was a passing fancy. He tried to use their relationship for his own purposes and postponed any reckoning that might arise. Harry was honest to himself for a moment, and realised that he had never had any partner with the same passion, intensity and sheer sexiness as Draco.

Ginny was too demanding, Lavender too fragile and the numerous male trysts were faceless, easily blending one into the other, letting him do as he wanted. It was only Draco who engaged his whole attention and ignited his core.

It was then Harry recognised that it had always been Draco. Malfoy had been there in every important moment of his life, defining it through his hatred and later, his love. Harry thought about graduation and life after school without Malfoy, and he shuddered. He felt an eerie emptiness, and wondered if it would always be there or it would lessen with time. He wanted to win Draco back again.

Harry wondered if he could find someone who put the same passion into his loving as Malfoy did. He thought of those grey eyes, how they lit up with inner joy when they watched him, how they filled with sadness when they argued, always faithfully depicting the inner turmoil of Draco's soul. Harry shuddered at how cold they had looked today when Malfoy looked at him.

He knew at that moment that Draco had begun the torturous process of getting over him. He made himself the promise that he would try to get over Draco. Fortunately, no one knew they had been lovers so he would be spared the rumour mill and the looks of pity of the Hogwarts students.

\--

* * *

The next months were the best for Draco and the worst for Harry. For Draco, it was the dawn to a life without the yoke of Potter's expectations and grandstanding. He dated several guys, and eventually settled down with a Ravenclaw, Terry Boot. Terry was refined and intelligent; he was also passionate in bed and satisfied Draco's desires. Most importantly, he also allowed Draco to take control and dominate when he needed it.

Harry was gleeful when Draco first dated a guy and broke it after two weeks; he felt that Draco would be crawling back to him any day now. So he was severely disappointed when Draco dated a Ravenclaw.

A Ravenclaw, didn't Malfoy have any class?

Harry started going out with Seamus Finnigan in hopes of making Draco jealous. Naturally, by doing so he outed himself and was subsequently ostracised as the gay Saviour of the Wizarding World. It was ironic that the main reason for keeping the relationship secret - that Harry's reputation was paramount - was abandoned by Harry himself in his ultimately maladroit efforts to gain Draco back.

As a gay wizard, Ron and Hermione slowly but surely abandoned Harry, concentrating in their relationship. They left Harry alone and subtly degrading him.

It turned out that Seamus was with Harry because he was popular, and when this declined due to his being gay, Seamus decided he had had enough. Harry was too domineering and uncaring, plus he was too unpopular for Seamus.

Abandoned by friends and boyfriend, Harry was miserable. He reflected bitterly that in order to save the friendships of these people, he had betrayed the one who loved him, only to be abandoned in turn by his so-called friends.

Of course, this didn't dissuade him from playing the pity card and trying to gain Draco's attention by looking downcast, taciturn and extremely morose. Unfortunately, Draco was otherwise occupied with dating the guy from Ravenclaw and solidifying the friendships with the Slytherins he had thoughtlessly neglected when claimed by Potter.

Potter had effectively become a blocking stone in Draco's past, one he had had to learn to evade and leave behind him.

In their painful months of separation, Harry realised that Draco had become the one oasis in his existence, the fountain of life that is unrecognised except in the middle of the desert, feeling his throat parched with the absence of the precious water.

Seventh Year passed by in a whirlwind, and Graduation day grew inexorably nearer.

That day Draco was with Terry, his Muggleborn parents Tony and Anne Boot, who rejoiced that their son had caught such a good looking, wealthy and talented wizard. Narcissa was present, happy to see her son graduate.

Potter was grudgingly sitting by the Weasleys as Ron muttered about flaming pouf friends. Harry's latest conquest had left him for a Quidditch player.

The couples danced to the tunes played by the Weird Sisters. The group was there at the insistence of Dumbledore. Harry had tried to cast a charm to stop hearing when Celestina Warbeck sang _'A Cauldron full of hot, strong love'._

When the last dance grew close, Harry sought Draco. The blond was swaying to the rhythm of the slow song on the arms of Terry; he scowled at Harry when he asked him to dance.

Draco was busy looking for a way out; he was mentally preparing himself for the ordeal when someone touched his shoulder.

He turned and saw Pansy Parkinson. The slim brunette tugged a strand of her hair sideways and turned to glare at Harry.

Although Draco never really explained in depth about what happened with the Gryffindor, Pansy had unexpectedly found Draco bawling in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. The boy had been so angry at her interruption that he almost hexed her.

Pansy was a Slytherin though; she managed to deflect his anger. She knew very well how sad Draco had been during that relationship and was fiercely protective of her former boyfriend. Noticing Potter barging in on the happy couple, Pansy decided to save Draco once again.

She smirked at Harry and touched Draco's robes. "May I have this dance with the most handsome student and my best friend?"

Draco offered a prayer to the gods whilst beaming at Pansy, leading her to the centre of the dance floor.

Harry looked mournfully on and felt that he would remember this moment for a very long time, looking at Draco from afar; almost touching him but forever watching him walk away, basking in the love of others.

He was painfully right.

 


	2. Harry's plight

 

**December 2nd, 1998**

It had been six months since Harry's graduation, and all he could remember were the endless days and empty nights. For him, it had been an uneventful period, notwithstanding the fact that he had vanquished Voldemort three months after he left school. It had been rather anticlimactic.

Harry thought that defeating Voldemort once and for all would garner him more admirers but it wasn't so. The _Daily Prophet_ and the public had been enthralled by the tale of the two dashing Slytherin spies, Snape and Malfoy.

Harry had to concede that it was dangerous to face Voldemort repeatedly, always fearing that your double dealings would be discovered and you would be tortured.  He had faced Voldemort in the battle, surrounded by the Light, and fighting him openly.

It seemed that once he had fulfilled his purpose in life, he was as good as discarded. His once best friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, hardly ever visited him. Let alone talk with him.

They had gone on to work in the Ministry, solely because they were the best friends of the Boy-Who-Lived. Outwardly, they unconditionally supported Harry while in reality they despised him because he was gay.

He felt bitterly used; thus, he came to understand Draco and the reasons he had left him.

He missed playing Wizard Chess with Ron. Harry always lost, but he missed the company and camaraderie, the closeness of his former best friend. He pondered the nature of chess; the endless variety that exists at the beginning of each game when the possibilities of different outcomes are infinite. If only he could start his life anew like a new chess game, he would not commit the same stupid mistakes that had brought him here.

He had several one-night stands; physically they were somewhat satisfying, but emotionally they left him drained. He knew they were only after his fame as the Saviour, and wanted to boast of having bedded the Boy-Who-Lived. As a matter of fact, three of them sold the details of their intimacy to the _Daily Prophet_ and made the front page news. Even though the Wizarding World was leery of the fact that their Saviour was gay, they still wanted to know all the details about his lovers.

He had made the mistake of beginning a relationship with Justin Finch-Fletchley. He thought the loyal Hufflepuff would be the ideal man to bottom for, and he was dreadfully wrong. After a rough weekend with an inconsiderate lover, he woke up on Monday to read in the newspaper about the bloke who took the virginity of the Boy-Who-Lived.

It was surely one of the most embarrassing moments of his life, and he could only imagine how Ron and Hermione, and Draco, would take the news. His friends would abhor him even more. Draco would read about the man who so easily got what he had unsuccessfully asked for time and again.

On Wednesday there would be a reception at Snape Manor to honour the veterans of the war against Voldemort. Harry was determined not to go because he knew that Draco would surely be there. It was only when Ginny Weasley pleaded with him to be her escort that he reluctantly agreed to attend. He didn't look his best because he was thinner, haggard and had dark circles under his eyes. However, he donned his best dress robes and Apparated to the Manor.

After reluctantly chatting with Gryffindors who regarded him with a strange mixture of awe and contempt, Harry finally settled down with a glass of Firewhisky and calmly watched the guests.

Immediately, he noticed the mop of blonde hair and saw Draco talking with Terry Boot. Watching Draco's features, he saw love shining from his eyes; the care with which he handled Boot betrayed his genuine feelings. It was plain to see that Boot also cared deeply for Draco. His brown eyes were fixed on Draco and held him with fondness. Their intimacy was plain to all when their hands would casually brush each other.

Harry saw that Draco had fallen in love with Boot, knowing that Draco guarded his feelings jealously. If Draco felt something for a person, those feelings would remain the same unless they were grossly violated.

Harry also knew that his infantile ploys to lure Draco back by making him jealous would undoubtedly fail, because Draco was weary of Harry's schemes with good reason. If only Harry could forget what it felt like to make love to Draco, to have him writhing under him and look up at him with those storm-tempered eyes of his.

Most of all, he missed cuddling with him and holding his hand; those seemingly fleeting touches which denoted his passion were burned in Harry's memory.

"Lonely much?" said Ginny. Harry turned and saw his friend, her coppery hair gleaming by the light of the sconces.

"Not really, just enjoying the night," said Harry. Ginny had turned out to be his one true friend. Despite the fact that her brother now despised Harry and her family had shied away from him as if he carried the Black Death, Ginny had stayed faithful. She had tried to cheer Harry up whenever she could.

"Stop looking at him like that, Harry, it is painfully obvious." Ginny twirled a strand of her red hair around her fingers. She was worried about Harry; all the Weasleys were, after Charlie and the Twins had chastised them thoroughly for their treatment of Harry.

But by then it was too late. Harry had grown distant and he refused to deal with them.

"Reckon I'm blatant, aren't I?" replied Harry as he stopped a floating tray and grabbed a shot of Firewhiskey.

"Only for those who truly know you" Ginny grabbed a goblet filled with Butterbeer from the tray carried by a waiter, oddly dressed in beige robes and a russet-collared wig.

"It's funny that you only know what good a thing is when you lose it." Harry took hurried gulps of the Firewhiskey, welcoming its burning his throat. Maybe he could get drunk and forget for a while.

"Harry. You and Draco were in a relationship?"

"Yes, and if I hadn't been such a bloody prat, I would not have lost him."

"Can't you get him back?"

"If I could I would, but now it's plain to see that he's fallen for Boot. I know that his feelings run true, and once given, they are not taken back lightly," replied Harry. He lifted the rim of his glasses with the hand that was not holding the drink.

"Well, move on and find another person." Ginny wished she could do more for the gallant boy that had saved her life in the Chamber of Secrets. If she could cast something more powerful than Bat-Bogey hexes on the indiscreet louts who had ruined Harry's life!

"I can't find another one like him, he completed me fully. All the others I meet are like shadows compared to him. Wish I could just replace him, but I can't." Harry glanced longingly at Draco talking with Boot and then turned to look at Ginny as he lifted his glass to down the rest of the drink.

"I reckon he's forgotten me and that hurts a lot. But what I gave him was cheap and easy to replace," finished Harry, grabbing another shot of Firewhiskey, this time from a passing waiter.

He was getting a bit tipsy, but he didn't care anymore. Nothing mattered because he was without his Draco.

 --

After the party, he returned to the flat he'd rented in London and got ready for bed. The idea that had been haunting him entered his mind again. _'I've done what I was meant to do, and I feel so empty. All that for nothing. No one showed me real love, except Draco, and I turned him away. It really isn't worth it to go on.'_

The next day he got a gun, and got ready to use it on himself.

On Thursday night, after changing into his pyjamas, he went to the laptop that Charlie had given him as a graduation present and he typed an email in which he said farewell to Ginny. When he was ready and was about to press the enter key, he heard a man's voice, croaky with age, "I would not do that just yet."

 


	3. The new timeline

**December third, 1998**

Harry was startled and turned his head. He had personally cast the wards around his flat, and he doubted even Voldemort himself would have been able to breach them. He saw in front of him an old man. His hair was completely white and his face was wrinkled. He wore dark glasses.

The old man said, "So you're ready to take the easy way out, but have you got the guts to right your wrong?"

"What do you mean?" asked Harry warily.

"I know you muse about chess. How would you like to start a new game with a clean slate and rectify your mistakes? You could reach happiness, the kind of love that you crave."

"You mean with Draco? I hardly think that would work. He loves Boot now."

"As you so naively put it, he loves Boot _now,_ but he loved you _before_ ," continued the old man.

"What do you mean, _before_?" asked Harry sceptically.

"I see you are still the clueless, naive Gryffindor who still lives in the Muggle world."

' _That old geezer is just as sarcastic as a Malfoy,'_ thought Harry _, 'I wonder if he is one of Draco's relatives.'_

"I would think that the old fool Dumbledork would have told you about the convenient little gadgets, the _Time-Turners_ ," said the old man.

"You mean, use a Time-Turner? They are strictly controlled by the Ministry. I don't reckon they will let me use one to mend my love life."

"They won't but I will. You could use the one I have," said the old man, presenting a Time Turner in one hand.

"However, there are important facts that you must know." The man put it back in his pocket. "I see that you were willing to die for your love, but are you willing to kill for it?"

Harry braced himself to control the shaking that suddenly threatened to overwhelm him. He asked with a small voice, "Kill? What d'ya mean?"

"You must know that Reality, the Universe we live in, cannot hold two of you for a long period of time. What this means is that if you go to the past, you must convince your younger self to radically change his behaviour and then come back here or, failing that, you must take his place and dispose of him," replied the old man a bit impatiently.

"I'll not kill him. I'm no murderer!"

The old man said testily, "I am afraid there is no other way. I know intimately how stubborn you were, your self-righteousness. It would be very difficult to convince yourself to change. If you remained that way, then Draco would leave you and you will come back from the past to your empty existence."

Harry glanced at his cold flat and shivered.

"Then it would be only a matter of time before you tried to kill yourself. There is no room for two Harry Potters in the past, you either convince the other Harry and come back or remove him and fix the error yourself. If you leave things as they stand then you will surely die."

Harry shuddered at the old man's callous words, and a suspicion entered his mind.

"Do I have to sell you my soul? Are you the Devil?"

The old man guffawed loudly, and produced what would surely be a Malfoy-grade smirk. "You're quite the melodramatic queen, aren't you? No, I am not that. I am something worse, which you will know in time."

As the man spoke and moved his hands gracefully, Harry noted a striking silver ring in the index finger of the left hand, shaped curiously like a snake eating its own tail. Harry vaguely remembered Hermione talking about such a symbol in ancient Greece, but he couldn't remember what it meant exactly. Maybe it was some sort of Slytherin symbol, or a pureblood status thing.

The man said, "But for now, think about the possibility of having Draco back, of keeping him with you. Finally showing him that you are worthy of his love, think of him sheathing you, then showing you what it feels like to be truly loved as he takes you."

Harry recalled Draco and his silky hair, his stormy eyes and lean figure. He felt his resolve grow.

"I'll do it. Just tell me what to do," Harry said in a firm voice.

"You will use the Time Turner to go back a year, to the day where Draco asked you to go to Hogsmeade with him. You will then talk to your younger self and convince him to change his ways. If he refuses and does not believe you, you will kill him, transfigure his body and take his place. Then you will act in such a way as to secure Draco's love."

"But, what about my friends?" said Harry tentatively.

"You have to deal with them. You must be aware that, even with his love, there will be enormous pressure on you to behave as their Saviour. It is up to you two how to handle that. You will not be alone, for you will have Draco with you," said the old man wistfully.

"And I'll give you one hint; he will love it when you call him Dragon."

"Alright, show me what to do," said Harry resolutely.

\--

* * *

**March 15th, 1997 – new timeline**

Harry materialised just outside the Room of Requirement because he knew it would be free for the day. It was the place where he was going to meet Draco later today. He cast a glamour charm on himself to hide his thin and pale countenance.

He quickly took out the Marauder's Map and tapped it with his wand. _'I solemnly swear I am up to no good.'_

Immediately, the plan of Hogwarts sprung before his eyes. He looked for the dot labelled Harry Potter, and to his amused surprise found it in the Dungeons, marked Harry Potter(1). He wondered if he would show up as Harry Potter (2).

After opening the door of the Room he tapped the Map with his wand and murmured _'Mischief Managed.'_

He quickly glanced around to make sure there was no one there; thus, he missed the moment when a dot flickered into existence on the Map, labelled Ron Weasley(2).

Dashing through the castle, he made his way to the Dungeons and grabbed the younger Harry by his arm, dragging him to an empty classroom after _Stupefying_ him. He cast strong Silencing and Locking charms, and got the younger Harry's wand away from him.

When he revived him, young Harry looked gobsmacked at him. "It can't be true! Who sent you? Did Voldemort send you here? Let me go!"

Harry looked sardonically at his younger self and wondered how Draco could stand such an uppity brat as that. He deserved tons better and he would make sure he got it.

"I'm you, a year in the future. I was going to make a great mistake, and was kept from doing it. I'm here to help you reach happiness. You must try and treat Draco better. Show him kindness, that you are worthy of his love. Convince him that you love him. Let him fuck you."

Young Harry snorted. "Are you kidding? I reckon he's my perfect bitch. He does as I want and will keep on doing it. I have nothing to change, especially not because a bloke who looks like me says so. You could be a Death Eater on Polyjuice!"

"Ask me anything, something that only you could know," growled Harry (2).

"What's my greatest fear?" asked Harry (1).

"That you'll die alone and unloved," answered Harry (2) with a tremor in his voice.

"I don't believe you! You could be a _Legilimens_ and read that in my mind! I'm going to get the Headmaster. The Aurors will get you, and you'll go to Azkaban!" bellowed younger Harry.

His magic started to get out of control, and the windows shattered.

Older Harry panicked. He knew he had only a few moments before the classroom was utterly destroyed. Dumbledore would certainly recognise such a disturbance and come looking for its cause. It pained him to do so, but he knew he had to do it. He could not bear the thought of going back to a life bereft of love and Draco. Right here there was Malfoy, willing to love him. Harry would not let that dream perish as he had previously done.

He cast Avada Kedavra. The ominous green light shot out of his wand and enveloped Harry (1), who fell to the floor with a surprised grimace, and stopped moving.

Collecting his wits, the older Harry transfigured Potter (1) into a chair, muttered a quick _Reparo_ for the window, and hurriedly left the classroom.

Harry felt devastated for having so casually cast the Killing Curse. He reminded himself that it was for the best, that he now had a chance to correct his mistakes and save his love, to make Draco happy and keep him by his side as he had wanted for the past months.

He prepared the Room of Requirement for his rendezvous, and drank tea to calm his nerves.

\--

When Draco arrived, Harry had to fight to keep his cool and maintain a nonchalant manner, belying the fact that all he wanted to do was kiss Draco passionately. He yearned to hold him and never let him go. Making an effort, he visualised McGonagall in a tutu doing the Macarena and calmed himself, greeting Draco casually.

They made love, and it felt like coming home, as if Harry was in the middle of the worst desert, parched and dry, and had just taken a drink from the fountain of life.

Afterwards, Draco asked, "What have you planned for tomorrow, Harry, do you want to go to the Three Broomsticks with me?"

Harry was at the real crossroads, one way led to perdition and the other to redemption. One answer would destroy his happiness and the other would lead him to the true road, however dangerous.

Without missing a beat, Harry answered, "Of course I'll go to the Three Broomsticks with you, Dragon, but you will have to tell me what to wear."

Draco looked dumbstruck but happy. Harry realized how stressed Draco was. He must feel constrained in the relationship. Harry gave so little of himself to his lover that Draco could find happiness in such small gesture. He determined to make it up to Draco, to show him that he was an equal partner and that Harry cared for him.

He kissed Draco, and it expressed the longing and want he had felt for more than a year. Harry looked at Draco with watery eyes. "I missed that; Merlin, how I missed that!"

Draco said, "But Harry, we just kissed in the morning."

"Even a moment without you feels like eternity to me, Dragon."

Draco grinned and made to stand up. Harry grabbed him and said in a husky, low voice, "Make me yours, Draco, I want to feel you in me."

"What, do I hear you right? You want me to make love to you?"

"Yes, Dragon, please."

"Are you sure? Why now, after all the times I asked you?"

"Because I want to show you how much you mean to me."

Draco looked torn. "I don't know, Potter. Why now, after months when I practically begged you? It might be one of your mind games and I am really not in the mood for those. Please get out."

Harry's heart quickened. Was time going to repeat itself? Was Draco going to break up with him yet again? Had he gone back in time and killed himself for nothing? With the insight so painfully gained, he knew he had to respect Draco, give him space and opportunity to make his own decisions, and especially show him that he respected him as his partner.

"I will go, my Dragon. But I want you to be aware that I really want to know what it feels like to be yours. I'm sure it will be wonderful, and I have been a complete fool for trying to deny us this pleasure. Whenever you feel like it, I'll be ready. I will be here for you now, tomorrow, and forever."

Harry walked to the door and looked back at Draco, holding back his tears. "I realise what an empty life I led before I was with you. I'm certain that without you my life will be empty. Believe me when I say that I'd do anything - anything - to keep us together."

Draco nodded, astounded at the change in Harry's usually obnoxious manner.

"It'll be my pleasure to go to Hogsmeade with you, just as I'd go with you to the Moon and back. I'll meet you in the Great Hall at 10:00 o'clock. See ya."

Even now, even here, Harry could not bring himself to say good-bye to Draco. He would rather die than do so.

He choked back a sob, turning to look at the Slytherin. At the door, he looked back and saw Draco, his hair shining in the moonlight, his eyes aglow with the erstwhile heat of his passion.

Watching intently, he treasured the look, hoping fervently that it would not be the last time he would see Draco.

\--

* * *

Harry went to Gryffindor Tower. In the Common Room, he found Ron and Hermione, who were predictably in the middle of a snog session. Harry smirked as he coughed, trying to gain their attention. When they finally broke apart, Harry shrugged. "Hate to tell you this, but I'll go to Hogsmeade with another person. I can't go with you."

Harry thought privately, _'I'd rather go with Voldie than with you, backstabbing traitors!'_

Ron said, "Who with, Harry? Who's the lucky girl?" Ron was fine with it, as long as it wasn't that scum, Malfoy.  

Harry said, "You'll find out tomorrow" He scowled at the redhead. _'And you will be pissed, jealous Weasel!'_

_\--_

* * *

The next day, at 10 o'clock, Harry stood in the Great Hall. He made a dashing figure in a dark green pullover, tight black leather pants, and dragonhide boots. His heart fluttered when he saw Draco enter, wearing a turtle-neck sweater and gray pants.

Draco approached him, and Harry presented him with a splendid red rose. "I read in a book that red roses symbolise passionate love. You kept loving me and giving me chances, even when I did not deserve them. I've come to realize how much you mean to me."

Harry put it delicately on Draco's outstretched hand, "Charmed the rose so it won't decay and will always smell like this. I want you to have it, for you already hold my heart in the palm of your hand."

Draco blushed. "Thank you. I didn't expect this from you, Harry. I'm happy to accept it." He took out his hawthorn wand and sent the rose to his room in the Dungeons.

They held hands and walked out of Hogwarts, talking about diverse things, and not paying attention to the stares they constantly received.

Harry was in seventh heaven. The person that meant the most to him was again beside him. He had a chance to really build the relationship and have a partner again. He knew the Wizarding world would be cruel, as well as his friends, but they would be inflexible regardless of whether he was with Draco or not.

They went to the Three Broomsticks and had butterbeer, talking about Quidditch. Harry took the opportunity to chat about himself, letting Draco know some of his fears, hopes and dreams, his failures.

It was all going smoothly until Harry felt a hand pushing violently his shoulder. He heard a familiar voice said, "What the hell are you doing with the sodding Ferret, Harry, have you lost your mind?"

Harry looked up towards a furious and red-faced Ron. He noticed Draco wore a stoic, weary expression. Surely Draco expected Harry to go away with Ron, say nothing and just agree with his friends as he had been doing all along.

Ashamed of himself, Harry said, "I am with Draco, and have been for some months. I want you to meet my boyfriend, Draco Malfoy."

Ron was completely flabbergasted. Though he suspected their relationship, he never expected Harry to acknowledge it, let alone announce it to the world as he had. He was quite sure that Harry would always choose him over Malfoy, as he had on the train in first year.

Ron waved his hands angrily, attracting the attention of the other patrons. "Please tell me you are taking the piss, Harry. Merlin, it doesn't matter to me if you are gay or not, so long as you don't go out with Malfoy! You can go out with Justin or Seamus; I would support you, but not Malfoy. Tell me you won't continue with him."

Harry smirked because he knew that Ron would later loath him simply because he was gay. He had abandoned him when he had not been with Draco at all.

It was a ploy to get him to choose Ron over Draco again. Harry knew how false Ron's friendship had become lately.

He said firmly, "Draco and I are a couple, and I hope we'll always be. If you can't support me on this, or at least accept my choice of a lover, then I won't consider you my friend."

Ron's eyes narrowed. "If that is your final word, Potter; I'll leave you alone with your queer lover."

A few minutes later, Hermione came up to Harry, "Ron's right, I'm afraid. You can't be with a suspected Death Eater. The Boy-who-lived cannot have such a lover, you'll be reviled and Voldemort will win."

Harry knew that the smart witch was trying to manipulate him, pulling on his hero strings.

"Then it's a pity that Voldemort will win because I love Draco. If you were as smart as you think you are, you'd know that's a lie. You are all my friends because it serves you well, and I want you to know that if you're no longer my friends, it is you who will suffer out of the limelight."

Hermione sniffed angrily and walked away.

Draco frowned at him. "Was that smart, Harry? They are your best friends; I would think you would want their support. I am glad you stood up for me, I just wish you didn't have to antagonize them."

Harry looked lovingly at him, "They're not truly my friends if they don't accept that the only person that brings me happiness is you. I won't give you up for the world, or time."

Draco looked with hooded eyes to Harry and said, "Remember what we discussed before, Harry?"

"Yeah, I remember" Harry wanted to hear what Draco would say.

"Are you still up for it?"

"I'll always be up for it."

"Then let's finish and head back to Hogwarts, to the Room of Requirement."

On the way back, Harry asked, "What about you, Draco? What will your house say about our relationship? What will Voldemort do?"

"I'm not the Slytherin Prince for nothing. My housemates will follow my lead and do as I say, or suffer the consequences. Lucius is in Azkaban and no longer heads the Malfoy family. I am no longer the Malfoy heir, because I have assumed my full duties. As for You-Know-Who, I'll tell him that it is all a plot to get your confidence and then hand you over."

Harry remembered he had been very jealous when Draco dated several guys, and how the Slytherins seemed to take it in stride. He also recalled reading Draco's exploits as a spy in the _Daily Prophet_. He concluded that Draco was a very capable wizard, and wondered how he had been so blind to underestimate him so in the past.

When they were nearing Hagrid's hut, they nearly collided with Terry Boot and Justin Finch-Fletchley.

Harry scowled venomously at Justin and said in a cold voice, "Well, it is our little Huffleduff wanker." He smiled smugly at Terry, daring him to say anything.

Justin asked confusedly, "Harry, what's up?"

Harry answered heatedly, "That's Potter to you, stupid Huffleduff!"

Justin whined. "Why are you acting like this, Harry?"

"I've my reasons, little Huffleduff. See that you do not cross my path ever again."

As they left their bewildered classmates behind, Draco drawled, "That was weird, Harry. One would think that you hold a grudge against the Hufflepuff."

"A grudge? That wanker is not worthy of my time or effort. Let's talk about something else," said Harry while shuddering inwardly, thinking of Justin's betrayal.

"Let's talk about your friends. I think you've been neglecting them. You should spend more time with them. Reckon I'd like to spend time with them and get to know them. I suspect I won't have many friends in Gryffindor."

"I'm sorry about that," Draco said sadly.

"Don't you dare be sorry, Dragon" whispered Harry fiercely.

He gazed into Draco's grey eyes. "Don't be sorry for loving me. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Without you, I'm nothing."

Harry looked up at the sky as they walked rapidly, "Without you there's only the bleak days and nights, their weary parade."

When they were near the Hogwarts entrance, Harry stopped and pounced on Draco, kissing him hungrily.

Their kiss was wild and untamed, and it spoke of their endless hunger for each other. As Draco was a little taller than Harry, Harry draped his arms around Draco's neck, and crossed his legs around Draco's waist. Draco supported Harry's bottom with his hands.

Harry didn't care who saw them. He wanted the world to know that he was Draco's, and the Slytherin was his, and they were proud of it. He had come dangerously close to losing him, and it was only magic that had brought it all together. He would not risk Draco's love again.

They barely managed to get to the Room of Requirement without snogging each other senseless. Harry walked three times in front of the tapestry, murmuring, "A place to lose my virginity."

He wondered if his time with Justin counted or if he was still a virgin, seeing as how that wouldn't happen until months in the future.

They noticed the room was decorated in Slytherin colours, green and silver. It had a huge bed; Harry sauntered to it and started stripping.

Draco smirked and moved towards him. "Stop, Harry, allow me the pleasure."

He took off Harry's pullover, shirt and pants, kissing every inch of Harry's body he exposed. Then he leisurely took off his own clothes.

When he swallowed Harry's length, Harry thought he had died and gone to Heaven. After his climax, he groaned. "I'm ready, Draco. I want all of you."

Draco whispered, " _Accio_ lube."

He grabbed the jar and prepared Harry expertly, taking a page from Harry's earlier ministrations. When he entered him, Harry was amazed at Draco's gentle care, and he had the most remarkable feeling in the world, quite different from the time with Justin when he was just used. Soon, Harry was groaning and panting. "More, Dragon, harder. Fuck me hard!"   

He felt completion, the fulfilment of a circle, and wondered how he had survived without this. What had been cold and forbidding with Justin had turned out to be lustful and pleasurable with Draco.

\--

* * *

The week after that, Harry got to know the other face of Slytherin and made good friends with Crabbe and Goyle, Blaise, and surprisingly, Pansy.

He found out they were funny, if bitingly so; their dry wit was legendary. He took his meals at the Slytherin table mainly. He rarely went to Gryffindor Tower to sleep because he spent most nights with Draco in the Room of Requirement.

Ron and Hermione had gotten most of the Gryffindors to follow their hypocritical viewpoint and reject Harry out of hand due to his liaison with Draco, ostensibly because he was a Slytherin. Harry knew they would condemn him regardless of Draco, just because of his sexual orientation.

Only Neville and Ginny stayed loyal to Harry, and would furnish him with the latest Gryffindor gossip.

The following Saturday, when he woke up in the Room, Harry saw a Wizard Chess set and turned to Draco. "Want to play a game?"

"Fine, but I'll beat you."

"It doesn't matter. Do you know what is great about chess? You can always start another game and use what you learned in previous ones. You learn from experience, at the beginning the possibilities are endless, a humble pawn can become a queen and be the centre of your attack. You sacrifice pieces, even important ones, to get what you want at the end. Infinite possible games can be played."

Harry took the leftmost pawn and hefted it in his hand, looking earnestly at Draco.

"It reminds me of what Shakespeare wrote. 'Age cannot whither her, nor custom stale her infinity variety'" Harry said, recalling what he read once during the bitter months away from Draco when he thought he had lost him forever.

Harry's eyes misted over as he stared intently at Draco, wanting him to divine in his gaze his profound, undying love. "I'll never grow tired of your endless diversity, my Dragon."

 


	4. Repentant Ron

**March 23rd, 1997**

On Sunday, Harry arrived at the Room of Requirement to prepare it for his rendezvous with Draco. It opened suddenly, without the requisite pacing back and forth in front of it. Harry also noticed that there was no tapestry with the ballet-dancing troll. Perhaps time-traveling was not all it was cracked up to be and it was messing with his head.

Harry scowled – he didn't need no dancing trolls. Perhaps Ron had taken it in the hopes the troll would teach him how to dance and he wouldn't step on Hermione's toes so much.

The Room opened to reveal a large bedroom, softly lit by the moonlight – it was always full moon inside because Draco liked it so – and Harry loved to see Draco's milky skin bathed by the soft light of the moon.

There were a lot of floating candles in the room. Harry waved his wand and extinguished most of them.

He lifted the rim of his glasses with one finger and took off his robe. He was wearing blue jeans and a white shirt.

He sat on the bureau near the canopied bed and took off his Gryffindor tie, idly discarding it on the Slytherin green duvet, near the fluffy pillows.

Harry took out his Potions book and a quill and started doodling on the textbook. He recalled when Ron and he started the class without it. Snape had motioned imperiously towards the cabinet and they fought for the only book.

Harry gazed wistfully at the wall – he still missed Ron, he just wished he would grow up a bit.

Harry ended up with the used, dog-eared book and took it to his table. Snape had told them to prepare _Felix felicis,_ and he had just started reading the bloody book when it was suddenly snapped shut by a furious Potions Master who seized it.

Harry had to use Hermione's, and he failed to do the potion – it ended up being a ghoulish green goo.

Bloody Snape, confiscating books as if they were his own!

Half an hour later, Draco came in. He looked a bit battered.

"Had a rough meeting?" – asked Harry concernedly.

"No, Voldemort was his usual bloody self. He's angry because he lost his man in Hogwarts." Draco took off his robe and his tie, throwing them on the bed next to Harry's tie.

Draco mussed his blond hair and then stretched languorously. He sat on the edge of the bed and continued, "Don't know what the hell he means.

"Must've been something Pettigrew said. The rat just came back from America."

Harry scowled fiercely at the book and snapped it shut with a forceful motion, "I wish I could lay my hands on that traitor!"

"Anyways, the coward reported that he'd found a Slytherin in New Hampshire," – Draco lazily waved his wand and conjured a fresh green apple, which he proceeded to eat leisurely.

Harry was distracted from his foul mood by the motion of Draco's lips as he bit into the delicious apple. He wished that his pouty lips were around his….

"The rat found a Potions master working there" - continued Draco oblivious of Harry's lustful thoughts – "some bloke called Slughorn."

Having finished the apple – to Harry's disappointment – Draco laid down on the bed, propped on his elbows, and continued, "Turns out that Slughorn was hiding from some creditors. He was camouflaged as a chair." He put his wand next to Harry's Gryffindor's tie, grimacing at the colors.

Draco proceeded to take off his shoes and socks. Harry's blood was running south and he hardly paid attention to the Slytherin, "Some tourist from America liked the chair and took it home. Sluggy ended up working as a manager of a furniture store."

Harry grabbed his wand and used it to take off his shoes, shirt and trousers. He muttered, "Really?" – hoping that Draco would finish his tale about that bloody chair, or couch or whatever.

"Anyways, that was the reason Voldemort was angry. He had inside information that Dumbledore intended to give the chair – I mean the man – the job of teaching Potions," – continued Draco while he undid his belt and lifted his slim hips, taking off his black trousers, to Harry's delight.

"So that's why Snape is still teaching Potions, and Dumbledore was forced to hire Remus to teach DADA," – said Harry hurriedly as he took off his own wool trousers, fumbling a bit with the belt in his haste to reach the good parts.

Harry scowled at the canopy of the bed, not that he got to see Remus much. He was currently on his honeymoon in bloody Australia, for Merlin's sake! He'd married Tonks and left in a hurry to look for some artifacts in Ayers Rock. And in his future… Remus and Tonks died.

Harry gulped and tried to focus on the present, on the here and now with his Dragon.

Dumbledore was teaching DADA, not that he taught them anything really useful.

But he stopped that train of thought when he saw Draco. The Slytherin was reclining his head on the pillow, his milky skin reflected the light of the candles and the moonlight, lending it the look of finest alabaster.

Draco was fidgeting with the elastic edge of his briefs. He looked up at Harry, and the Gryffindor drowned in those grey eyes.

Harry scooted up the bed and touched his forehead to Draco's, saying breathily, "But I don't care about Voldemort, or Dumbledore or whoever. You're here with me, and that's all that matters."

Draco lifted one hand to touch tenderly Harry's scar, "You´re different, Harry."

He ruffled Harry's unruly mop of hair, "You've suddenly changed a lot. All of a sudden."

Draco glared weakly at Harry as he continued, "I have some ideas – but I don't really care. You're mine at last."

The Slytherin looked sideways at the canopy, "But you keep saying that my love is eternal or something" – he faltered and then continued softly – "but it isn't. I almost gave you up that day. I was so tired of being pushed to the sidelines. I felt like I was only your plaything."

Draco edged away from Harry and looked sadly at the wall, "So you see, I'm not perfect, nor as constant as you think."

Harry gazed tenderly at his Dragon, indeed he represented infinity variety. Sometimes he was strong, and then he was vulnerable – like now. He yearned to know him fully, to grow with him.

It wasn't a matter of who topped or bottomed, it was about who cared – and loved. Life – and that old geezer – had taught him that.

Harry suspected the man was Lucius, why else would he don the dark glasses, if not to hide the strikingly grey Malfoy eyes? And the snarky way he referred to the Gryffindors – it had to be Lucius.

And if Draco thought he was the perfect romantic – Harry'd had a lot of time during those bitter months away from him, time to read books and watch movies and think about all the things he would do if only he got another chance with his Draco.

So Harry was not perfect at all, but he couldn't explain everything to Draco right now. He would do it, but not just now. This moment was for laughter, and passion, and recharging their batteries as they prepared to face Voldemort.

Harry sat astride Draco's thighs and caressed his face, tracing with the fingers of his right hand his straight, perfect nose, "You're perfect for me, Draco."

He leaned until the tip of his nose touched Draco's and said huskily, "And I'm yours, my Dragon."

Draco reached up for Harry's glasses and took them off him, putting them gently on the bureau.

Draco kissed him hungrily and then whispered, "You know, Harry, I liked … some things in our past" – he gulped and turned his face aside, blushing and evading Harry's heated gaze – "some things that I miss."

Harry sat up slowly and said huskily, "I reckon I know what ya mean, Dragon."

He caressed the Dragon's flanks. He picked up his wand and conjured their briefs away. He looked interestedly at Draco's thick cock. It was nearly erect, and the glans peeked from the rosy foreskin.

Harry muttered, " _Accio_ lube."

He caught the flying vial and opened it. He rolled sideways and touched Draco's left thigh, "Open up, Draco."

After Draco parted his thighs, Harry upended the vial and let the liquid coat the fingers of his right hand.

He sighed as he his index finger breached Draco's warm channel. He'd missed this so much, this magic moment when he made Draco his.

Draco moaned and spread his legs wantonly. Harry leaned to lick hungrily the tip of his red cock. He intended to make use of the thick dick later on, but first….

Draco put his long legs around Harry's waist as the Gryffindor knelt above him and lined his glans against his entrance. Draco felt the bulbous head enter and pause for a moment, allowing him time to get used to the intrusion. He closed his eyes and savored the stretch.

There was a new timidity to Harry's movements, as if he was afraid that Draco would break or would just disappear. He didn't understand it, but it didn't matter. He had what he wanted.

He pushed himself backwards, spearing himself on Harry's thick cock, moaning and writhing under the Gryffindor's tentative thrusts.

Draco opened his eyes and looked at Harry, mesmerized by his red cheeks and glittering emerald eyes, shining softly in the moonlight. That was the reason he loved the Room and its special light. Harry was all mysterious-looking, all his.

He lifted his hand and touched with his fingertips a drop of sweat that was sliding down Harry's chest.

Draco brought his fingers to his mouth and sensuously licked the pads, gazing at Harry all the while. Harry moaned and pushed harder into him.

He pumped his cock into and out of Draco's inviting channel as Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders, propping himself up and kissing the Gryffindor hungrily, demandingly.

Harry kept thrusting in and out until he felt he was near the edge. He wrapped his hands around Draco's slick cock and jerked it easily, helped by his precome. It made a squelching sound as the foreskin slid over the angry glans, equaled by the sound of Harry's cock sliding in and out of Draco.

The Slytherin came with a shout, and the clenching of his soft walls, caressing his cock, prompted Harry over the edge. He spilled inside his love.

Tired, he laid down on Draco, kissing his face tenderly.

Finally he rolled sideways and slipped out of Draco with an audible pop.

Draco's arm reached out behind Harry's head. He grabbed his wand from its position near the Gryffindor's tie. He swished it lazily and cleaned them with a muttered spell.

He stood up and went to the bathroom, walking a bit wobbly.

Harry stretched luxuriously on the bed. He wasn't completely exhausted by any means. In fact, he was restless. Draco brought that in him.

He grabbed his glassed and put them on. He lazily moved his hand around the pillows until he found his wand, then he muttered, ' _Accio book'n'quill._ '

He caught the book and the self-inking quill that Hermione had given him, back when they were still good friends.

Harry sighed as he started doodling on the book, eagerly awaiting Draco´s return…

* * *

….. "Mr. Potter… Mr. Potter, are you with us?"

Harry sat up suddenly, he laid the quill on the desk and looked at the picture he'd drawn of Draco's angry red cock. The picture moved and jerked sideways, slithering insinuatingly closer.

He squirmed on his seat, bloody Draco and his thick… wit!

Harry lifted his glasses with his right pinky and looked guiltily at McGonagall, who was still barking something about a Transfiguration or other.

He took out his wand and waved it lazily, transforming the small teapot in front of him into an angry white hedgehog whose quills wavered menacingly – if cutely.

McGonagall sniffed and turned to glare at Dean Thomas, muttering under her breath, "Five points to Gryffindor for Mr. Potter's great work."

Harry sneaked a look and saw Hermione staring transfixed at his hedgehog - which he'd dubbed 'Hector' - while a teapot with several small feathers sat on her desk.

Harry smirked victoriously. Served the stuck-up Mione well!

He turned to look longingly at his magical doodle. McGonagall had interrupted when he was getting to the good parts, before Draco shagged him into the mattress!

What was a poor Gryffindor to do when he had no Pensieve at hand? And if he had, he wouldn't want the snarky Potions Master to stumble into the memories where Draco and he were buggering each other senseless.

Luckily he remembered this lesson well. He was beginning to forget the future. He couldn't recall how he vanquished Voldemort – only that Draco and Snape helped a lot.

Surely it didn't occur like Dumbledore wanted. The Headmaster didn't train him or anything, it was as if he expected Harry to just croak in front of Voldemort and vanquish him like that.

Harry scowled at the wall - when Dumbledore passed him on the corridors, the Headmaster kept glancing at him and muttering ominous things like, _"Evil will pass through from their world into our own" –_ and - _"Without you, we leave the fate of our world to chance."_

Harry was tired of his weird sayings. If bloody Dumbledore really thought this - why didn't he train him?

But there were things he remembered very well, like his classes and everything having to do with Draco. He'd lost many people close to him and that had contributed to his despair and depression, when seemingly everyone had turned their backs on him and he was alone.

He was convinced that he could´ve weathered it all – if only he'd had someone beside him, someone like Draco.

Harry recalled what happened on Friday. The Seekers had been walking toward the Quidditch Pitch to practice, when they were momentarily blinded by the light of a flashing bulb. When they could see again, Colin Creevey was smiling sheepishly at them, holding his camera with his left hand.

Draco was furious and whipped out his wand, ready to cast a spell at the obnoxious Gryffindor, when Harry held his arm and stopped him. Harry was very angry too – but he'd had a brief memory of a small lifeless hand upon the floor of the Great Hall, and he couldn't bring himself to let Draco curse the mousy boy, even if he did deserve it.

He just shook his head at Colin and dragged Draco along, while the Slytherin muttered – "These silly Gryffindorks of yours, Harry, always following the fool Dumbledork. They drive me up the wall."

Draco scowled so furiously at Creevey that Colin shrunk back and scurried back to Gryffindor tower.

The bell ringing the end of classes jerked Harry back from his reverie. He stood up slowly, glowering furiously at his former friends Ron and Hermione. While McGonagall was chastising Neville for turning Ron's teacup into a porcupine – with a little help from Harry – the Seeker grabbed Hector and put him in his bag.

Justin Finch-Fletchley stood up from his seat two rows ahead of him. The curly-haired boy had been among those that turned on Harry when it came out he was gay – the hypocrite and traitorous Huffleduff!

Zacharias Smith passed by Justin – he smirked at him and said loudly, "See ya later, tiny!"

Everyone snickered, and Harry smirked devilishly.

It was wonderful having an Invisibility Cloak. Last week he snuck into and out of the bathrooms inside Hufflepuff - the basement was on the way to the Dungeons anyway - and he scrawled on the walls that Finch-Fletchley had a tiny prick. The nickname became common - cause it was true – the curly-haired Hufflepuff was _small_.

Harry shook his head, wondering what he'd ever seen in the tiny bastard.

Harry walked rapidly along the corridor and climbed the steps of the swivelling staircase, hoping it would connect to the right floor, or he would be late to Charms. Not that it mattered, because Flitwick was a kind teacher – most of the time.

After he arrived at the correct floor, Harry was sauntering along a corridor when he met Ron.

He grimaced as if smelling a wet dog and made to walk past him. However, Ron stopped him.

Harry braced himself for a confrontation with the Weasel, holding his bag close to his chest. He idly noticed that Ron had his hair a bit longer. He had dark circles under his blue eyes, and it looked as if he had been crying – a lot.

Harry sneered, remembering when Neville told him that Ron had imbibed Amortentia, brewed by Millicent Bulstrode. He'd professed his undying love for the heavy-jawed girl in the Great Hall during dinner - looking longingly at the Northern side of the Hall across the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables, to the Slytherin table where Millicent sat blushing prettily, next to an astounded Pansy and Draco.

Later Neville told him that Ron whined, "These girls, Neville – they're gonna kill me."

Served the prat well! – thought Harry vindictively.

His meditations were interrupted when Ron threw himself at him, flinging his bag aside violently.

Ron hugged him, "'M sorry, Harry! 'M so sorry! I didn't know better!"

Harry stepped away; he put his left hand inside the bag, searching for Hector. If Ron had squashed the hedgehog, he'd make him pay. He muttered, "Ouch!" – when the sharp quills scratched his hand.

Harry scowled at his former friend, "You're crazy if you think I'm gonna forgive you that easily, Ron!"

He huffed and hurried to the classroom, noting that Ron smelled of Firewhiskey. Probably he'd snuck into the Twins' secret hiding place in Hogwarts – which was no secret to him, courtesy of the Marauder's Map.

Harry entered the Charms classroom and sat at the very back. He espied Hermione sitting at the front, looking around frantically, probably searching for Ron– her homophobic, drunk prat of a boyfriend.

Seamus and Dean entered after Harry. When they were passing him, Seamus turned to his friend and muttered loudly, "Let´s seat at the front. Me mom told me that being a pouf is contagious, ya know!"

Harry snorted and said loudly, "I bet yer mom doesn't know ya like it up the arse, Seam!"

Smiling at him, Harry drawled, "Ya like it, don't cha Seam? Ya like to ride Dean's thick cock!"

The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws snickered while Seamus retorted, "I don't!" – blushing and scampering away with Dean.

Harry grinned proudly until he saw Terry Boot.

His mood sinking a bit after he saw Terry, Harry bent down and took his Charms book and a quill out of the bag, petting Hector's head carefully. With a start, he remembered Hedwig.

He hadn't visited her since he came back to the past. She must be furious! He promised himself he'd go to the Owlery as soon as possible. Hopefully the irate owl would be amenable to some treats. He made the mental note not to take Hector with him when he visited her.

Professor Flitwick entered the classroom and everyone shut up. Flitwick took out his wand and levitated some thick books onto the chair. He proceeded to climb upon them and start lecturing about some Charm or other. Harry paid scant attention – because he'd heard it all before.

Coming from the future had its perks – study-wise. It allowed him the liberty not to focus on the lecture. Not that he'd ever needed that.

He idly wondered why Ron didn't have his Gryffindor tie. He'd been wearing a dark blue one on the corridor, as if he was going to a funeral.

Filius was about to call on Harry to explain the features of the Hair-thickening Charm - because the Gryffindor was doodling on his book, and frankly, Flitwick suspected Harry had used that charm on himself sometime in the past.

He said, "Mr. Potter, could you…"

But he was interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open.

Dennis Creevey burst into the room. The boy with the mousy brown hair skidded to a stop in front of Flitwick's desk, jogging the chair so the thick books wobbled precariously.

Harry looked up then, wondering idly if Flitwick would fall down from his perch atop the books.

Dennis looked frantically around the classroom until he found Harry. He gazed adoringly at the Gryffindor. Luckily for him, Draco was taking Arithmancy and wasn't there.

Flitwick said exasperatedly, "Mr. Creevey, why are you here?"

Dennis turned to face the Charms teacher and stuttered, "The h… headmaster wants to see Harry…"

Turning to look directly at his hero, he said, "Remus Lupin is here, Harry – he wants to see you!"


	5. Ron's detour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: discussion of past non-con, (not Harry or Draco)

**February 1st, 1999 – the old timeline**

Ron Weasley entered the small flat he and Hermione rented in Woking. He ruffled his red hair and opened the top button of his white shirt, tugging aside his dark blue tie; his superior at the Department of Mysteries insisted on proper clothing, although working in the Time Chamber didn't merit such elegance, in his opinion. Thank Merlin it was Friday.

Ron lay down on the sofa, sighing deeply.

He was clutching tightly the latest _Daily Prophet_. Heaving a deep sigh, he threw the paper onto the crystal table, where it landed next to Fred's Sneakoscope. The paper crashed against it and the Sneakoscope whirled a little before it calmed down. The front page showed a photo of Harry waving timidly to the crowd after he'd vanquished Voldemort. The headline read:

_Ministry of Magic unable to locate any traces of our missing Savior_

There were many parchments and folders upon the table; a Quidditch bat lay haphazardly next to Hermione's laptop.

Ron looked towards the ceiling as he tried to avoid shedding tears. It had been two months since Harry mysteriously disappeared. No one knew what had happened to him, and guilt was slowly tearing up Ron's insides.

He'd been so consumed by jealousy and fear that he pushed Harry away when he needed Ron the most, and he convinced Hermione to go along with him – not that she needed much convincing.

Worse, Ron's family had agreed with his views until Charlie came home from Romania - he and the Twins sat down with them and talked sense – after Fred and George conveniently tied them to their chairs - and made them see reason; back when the Twins were whole… when Fred still lived.

Ron grabbed the remote control from the leather chair and idly switched it on, flipping through the channels, not finding anything interesting. He became an avid rugby fan once Hermione explained the rules of the game – which she read in a book or something.

Thinking of his girlfriend, Ron sighed; Hermione wasn't doing any better than him. She'd tried to make contact with her parents in Australia; but they rejected her – claiming they had no daughter. It seemed her spellwork was not as efficient as she thought.

Ron suddenly yawned, he was tired - he hardly slept a full night nowadays. He grabbed one of the Chocolate Frogs that were on the table and he was about to tear up the wrapper and eat it when he remembered that they were Harry´s favorite sweets.

Having lost his appetite, Ron put the frog back on the basket and lay down on the sofa, hugging himself, rocking silently back and forth until sleep came to him.

One hour later, the door was softly opened and a figure skulked into the room. A beam of moonlight reflected off bushy brown hair, which was swept aside by a nervous hand.

Seeing her boyfriend sleeping, Hermione tiptoed into the living room and took the remote from Ron's unresisting hand. Turning to the TV, she switched it off and then put it softly back on the table. She bent down to tousle his red hair, tenderly. She reached across his sleeping form to turn on the lamp.

Hermione shrugged off her coat and put it delicately over the chair. Her job at the Ministry of Magic was very tiring, having to deal with centaurs and giants on a daily basis was exhausting, but something she enjoyed.

She entered the kitchen and went to the cupboard; she selected Crookshanks favorite tuna can from atop a pile which threatened to collapse. Hermione took out her wand and flicked it tiredly to open the can, which she put on the floor.

She sat on the chair next to the fridge and waited for the ginger cat to appear, touching her silver bracelet nervously. Crookshanks wasn't very close to her nowadays; the cat behaved like his owner – thought Hermione guiltily. She'd read the _Daily Prophet_ in the morning.

Thinking about her former best friend, Hermione laid her face upon her stretched hands and cried softly. Why did she leave him alone? Why did she abandon poor Harry when he needed them the most?

Hermione lent to the left and grabbed a tissue which she used to wipe off her face.

Life was not the same without Harry; she sobbed, imagining his goofy smile as he confided something in her which she already knew.

He'd been in a dark mood ever since that fateful day - the ides of March. Hermione suspected why he was so depressed, but she did nothing. Instead, she pretended that everything was all right with the world, and when Harry started going out with Seamus Finnigan and Ron turned on him, she meekly followed along – without thinking about it.

Harry drifted in the world all by himself, alone; having lost the people closest to him – Remus, Tonks, Fred, Malfoy – Ron and her.

Hermione sobbed, and wished that she could go back in time and change things, make everything all right for her best friend – the one she abandoned; but Time Turners didn't reach that far back.

She was distracted by the scratching sounds against the wooden door of the kitchen. She went to the door, and opened it, noticing the creaking sound and making a mental note to buy some lubricant.

Crookshanks strode in. The bandy-legged cat scrunched his seemingly squashed face as he sauntered regally by her - without paying her any attention. He sniffed disdainfully the tuna dish and his pink tongue started lapping it up.

Seeing her cat behave so, Hermione was engulfed by seething rage against him and the world – why did everything have to be so hard for her? Why couldn't her cat, her parents – and Harry – behave logically for once?

She stabbed her wand angrily towards the fridge and _accio'd_ the piece of paper with the telephone number of the pizzeria which was stuck to the fridge. Hermione sighed as she took out her cell phone from her bag and prepared to order a pizza – she was too discouraged to prepare food nowadays; and anyway, Ron often compared her cooking to Molly's – unfavorably.

If only Harry were here, he could have put Ron in his place with a joke or a glare. Hermione had started the call when there was a knocking sound on the door.

She put the phone on the table and hurried to the entrance while the bell kept ringing, waking up her boyfriend.

Ron looked around blearily, saying, "Wha…" as Hermione reached the door and opened it.

She saw an old man with white hair; his eyes were hidden by dark glasses. He wore a severe black robe, and was taller than her. The man had a weather-beaten face and right now was frowning at her. He said, "May I come in, Grang… I mean Hermione?"

She reluctantly opened the door and the man sauntered into the apartment. He sat on the big leather chair that was Ron's favorite.

Ron glared at the stranger until the man spoke, "Don't you miss Harry?"

"Who are you and what you want?" replied Ron in an aggravated tone.

The man put the tips of his long fingers together and looked at them thoughtfully, "You may call me Antares, and as for what I want….. I come to fulfill your wishes."

Hermione frowned; she remembered her Astronomy lessons very well. Antares was the name of a star in some constellation with an awful name… something that the pureblood wizards would name their children after. She was so busy thinking about his name that she didn't notice the Sneakoscope whizzing for a few seconds.

Ron yawned and didn't see Antares moving his hand inside his robes. He replied, "We don't need you, old man!"

Crookshanks came into the living room with his tail held high, his bandy-legged gait imperious as always. Hermione glared when the traitorous cat jumped on the lap of the strange old man, and began to purr loudly. Antares petted the ginger cat, who purred like a small motor.

"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted" - continued the man, and Hermione could swear that the man was glaring behind his glasses – "I'm here to help you."

Antares waved his hands grandiosely, "You've made an awful mistake, and I'll help you correct it!"

Hermione noticed the strange silver ring that the man wore on the index finger of his right hand; peering closely, she noticed it was a snake eating its tail. Its eyes were two small emeralds.

She knew it was the _Ouroboros_ \- the snake eating itself formed an unbroken circle, the symbol of eternity and rebirth.

"….. know why you betrayed Harry," said the man.

Hermione coughed and blushed, "Could you repeat that, sir?"

Antares stopped petting Crookshanks and replied slowly, "Before I help you, I want to know the reason you left Harry alone." The man turned to look at Ron.

Crookshanks saw the reflection of a car's taillight moving on the window; he jumped out of the man's lap, and his wand fell to the floor. The old man hurriedly bent down to pick it and his glasses slipped down his nose. When he looked up at her, Hermione saw that the man had striking grey eyes.

She was distracted by the sound of Ron's voice, replying heatedly, "None of your business!"

Ron looked nervously at his girlfriend.

"On the contrary, it is my business, entirely so – "replied the man and pointed with his right hand towards Hermione, "and don't you think your girlfriend deserves to know the reason too?"

Ron stood up from the sofa and walked slowly to the window, peering at the full moon. He stayed there for a while. Then he turned around and looked intently at Hermione.

"I guess you're right," said he with a defeated sigh.

Ron returned to the sofa and sat down. "When I was ten years old, my parents left to visit the twins at Hogwarts, they'd done some prank or other…." he started playing with a loose thread from the cushion. Without looking up, he continued, "Bill and Charlie were out of the country. They left Ginny with Aunt Muriel and me…. they left me with Blaise….."

Hermione gasped, and Ron turned to her and explained, "Blaise was a friend of mine, because his family was neutral in the war…. They were among the few purebloods that were our friends." Ron looked pleadingly at Hermione, "Could I have some Firewhiskey, please?"

Hermione turned to Antares, who nodded, and she said wearily, "I'll get you some."

She took out her wand and swished it muttering, ' _Accio_ bottle.' The lamplight illuminated briefly her silver bracelet, and she was too engrossed to notice the startled sound the old man made.

Ron caught the bottle before it crashed against her laptop; he took two glasses that were on the table and poured drinks for himself and the old man. He pushed one towards the man and took a gulp from his own.

"Anyway, Blaise and I were doing fine until Avernius Flint came to visit" – Ron gazed earnestly at Hermione – "he was 20 years old. During the night, he came to my room and…. and he…"

Unable to continue, Ron put the glass back on the table and hid his face on his hands. She went to him and knelt down beside him. She gently took his hands off his face and gazed at him.

"He… molested you?" said Hermione tentatively.

Ron nodded and then sobbed; Hermione stood up awkwardly and sat down next to him, hugging him fiercely and patting his red hair.

"Shhhh, shhhhhh, everything's going to be alright," said Hermione softly.

She gazed at Ron and said, "So that's why you hate Slytherins so much…"

"… and were so against Harry's choice," ended the man.

"You should've told me, Ron - I would've found something in the self-help books, I… I could've helped you."

Hermione broke down crying too, "And we would've stood behind Harry."

"You mustn't judge…."- continued Hermione between sobs- "not all people… are like that."

Ron hid his face in Hermione's hair and breathed in her wonderful strawberry scent, calming him down a bit. Hermione continued, "But now's too late… too late for Harry."

Antares spoke loudly, "Perhaps it's not too late for you all."

Hermione turned her teary face to him; the man pushed up the rim of his glasses with his pinky finger and then took off his ring with a flourish, putting it on the table.

He pushed it towards Ron and continued calmly, "This is what you'll do…." – and the corners of his mouth twitched briefly, as if attempting to form a smirk.

* * *

**March 15** **th** **, 1997 - new timeline**

Ron crouched behind the pillar, his back touching the rough-hewn stone. He was near the room where Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday party took place. He was waiting for Harry to leave the classroom, following the old geezer's instructions.

When Harry left, wiping a tear off his cheek, Ron cautiously looked around both sides of the passage, he gingerly walked to the door and opened it.

He gazed around the room. He'd clearly heard the sound of the glass windows breaking, but they seemed to be ok; he snorted, the greasy git insisted on having windows in the Dungeons. He found the chair with the green upholstery that the old man had told him about. He took out his wand from the pocket of his robe and he swished it carefully saying, _Finite incantatem._

The chair turned into Harry's unmoving body; Ron crouched down and touched him tenderly.

He choked back a sob, and mindful of the old man's commands, he took out the weird silver ring from his left pocket and put it on Harry's hand. He softly closed the unresisting hand around the ring and muttered the password for the Portkey, _'Osiris.'_

Harry's body shimmered and disappeared in a flash of bright light.

Feeling devastated after seeing Harry's lifeless body, Ron needed something to distract himself from the pain of watching his best friend – whom he treated so cruelly – laying on the floor like this. He opened the door and peered outside; finding his way free, he took the stairs and finally made it to the room where Harry and he discovered the Mirror of Erised.

He opened the door, somehow hoping to find the Mirror and catch a glimpse of Harry, Hermione and him battling foes like they always did, together – always together. But when he walked inside the room, he found it empty.

He plopped down on a chair and conjured himself some Firewhiskey

* * *

_Eight days later_

Ron walked aimlessly around, trying to find his younger self and beat some sense into himself, when he found Harry, who was sauntering along a corridor. Feeling relieved - and guilty - Ron walked up to him and hugged him fiercely, apologizing as best he could, given his slightly tipsy state.

Harry was not very friendly and deep inside, Ron agreed with him.

He gazed forlornly at Harry's back as the Seeker walked along the corridor, wobbling a bit; he muttered something about a hedgehog. Ron took a few shuffling steps to the left and he found himself face to face – with himself. Younger Ron hitched his bag and asked aggressively, "Who are you?"

Ron replied, "Doesn't matter! What's important is that…." He took two steps towards himself and waved his fist menacingly, "what matters is that you treat Harry right!"

Ron(1) said snidely, "The fool's a pouf… and he lets the slimy Malfoy shag him!"

Older Ron had had enough of his younger self, he directed his fist towards his smug face but he was a bit drunk and his younger self had time enough to move aside. Ron(2) fell clumsily to the floor and his younger self laughed uproariously.

Ron stood up slowly, glaring at himself. He took out three memory vials from the pocket of his robes.

These were memories that Hermione insisted he should carry in case he found their younger versions.

He grabbed young Ron's hand and opened it forcefully. He put the vials on his hand and growled, "Watch this carefully, git! Just in case, have Mione watch them too!" He stood up and walked away, sneering at his younger self.

"And be a good friend of Harry! He needs it!" – shouted Ron(2) as he disappeared down the corridor, leaving his younger self shaking his head and wondering if he'd had enough food lately and this was an hallucination.

* * *

Ron walked until he reached the statue of the humpbacked witch and plopped down to the floor, hidden by the statue. He still had to get something from Mione that the old geezer insisted was important.

He gingerly held his head – he shouldn't have drunk all that Firewhiskey from George and Fred's secret stash. He was starting to doze off when a voice startled him.

"Wotcher, Ron!"

Startled, Ron looked up and incredulously watched the figure of a slender witch peering intently at him. Her hair was bright purple and she was making tsking sounds at him. She took out her wand and moved it with a sweeping motion saying, " _Scourgify!"_

Ron's stubble disappeared and his appearance was quite a bit tidier, though now his red hair was sticking out every which way. The witch reached her hand and attempted to straighten his hair.

"My mums is way better at this," muttered Tonks to herself, and then she added, "Anyway, you look like Harry now."

Ron flinched when Tonks continued, "Have to go and meet Remus, see ya!"

Tonks walked away with a light step, until she stumbled over someone's book that was lying on the stone floor.

Ron was very pale, as if he had seen a ghost; which in a sense, he had. Tonks was dead in his time, but here – she was very much alive. He settled down to wait for Hermione, and he didn't wait overly long.

She appeared ten minutes later, clutching her bag to her chest and muttering angrily to herself, "Have to find out how Harry does it!" Seeing Ron, she essayed a smile but then, remembering his absence from class, she said angrily, "Where were you, Ron?

"You missed the class! Don't think I'm always going to lend you my notes!" huffed Hermione.

"Anyway, I have to find out why Harry's spells are suddenly so powerful!" continued the bushy-haired witch.

"His hedgehog was perfect! And mine was a bit… off."

Ron wondered why everyone was so interested in the prickly animals, in his time it wasn't so.

"And that book he keeps doodling on" – continued the irate witch – "I think it's McGonagall's old book!"

Hermione lifted her bag and glared at it, "No doubt the Professor wrote all kind of tips on the book, and now Harry's reading them!"

She sniffed and said, "I smell Firewhiskey – I bet Mr. Filch found the Twins' secret stash and has been drinking from it."

She huffed, "Probably gives some to Mrs. Norris – the poor cat!" Hermione paced back and forth, "I have to find a way to steal Harry's book and look at those doodles! Then I'll catch up with him."

Ron interrupted Hermione's tirade, "Mione, could you lend me your… bracelet?"

She looked at him suspiciously. She lifted her left arm and pointed towards the silver bracelet with her bag, "This one?

"After I fought with Kreacher when we found it at Grimmauld Place?" she said, and then muttered under her breath, "That nasty, old…"

Ron held up his hand to stop her, "I'll send it to Mom, she wants to give something special to Ginny for her birthday, and I thought…" he continued while he scoffed his shoes on the floor, "that she might find something like it.

"I'll give it back, promise," ended Ron, knowing that he wouldn't; that the younger Ron would have to deal with an irate Mione – hoping she would sock that git in the mouth, just like she did with Malfoy.

Hermione sighed, "Ok, Ron – just this once."

Ron held her bag while she took off the bracelet. After she gave the piece of jewelry to him, she hurriedly grabbed her bag and headed towards the stairs, "Have to go now, see you later, Ron."

Just before she turned the corner, she called back, "And do something with your hair, for Merlin's sake!"

Ron held up the bracelet, peering intently at it, noting that it was fashioned like a snake eating its tail.

Grimacing disgustedly, he put it in his pocket; he couldn't imagine what the old geezer wanted with it. Ron made his way to the Room of Requirement, where he would return to the future.

He was walking along a corridor on the fourth floor – mindful of the old geezer's advice to stay unseen - when he heard a voice he knew well.

"Really, Draco – why do we have to go the Library now? Can't you ask Harry – he seems to know all the answers already," whined Pansy Parkinson.

"I'm not going to ask him about this - forget it, Pansy," drawled Draco.

"Besides, he already tried to grab Harry's homework, but the hedgehog pricked him," added mockingly Blaise Zabini, and the Slytherins laughed.

Ron rolled his eyes, wondering about everyone's obsession with this animal, when the three students rounded the corner. Pansy saw him and bit out, "Talking about hedgehogs, here's a red one – though he is not as cute as Harry's."

She tugged a strand of her bronze-colored hair behind her ear, and Ron made the mental note to lay off the Firewhiskey – he could've sworn she was a brunette before. When he saw Malfoy brandishing his wand, Ron took out his own and prepared to defend himself against the Slytherins.

But he was too late, Malfoy swished his wand and Ron felt a sticky sensation, like something was crawling on his head.

He spluttered, "What have you done?"

"Relax, Weasley, I've only straightened your ginger hair," drawled Draco.

Blaise nodded to Ron, and then he turned to Pansy and winked at her, "Yeah, it's the same spell he uses for his hair."

Draco glared at his friend, "If you continue, I'll tell Pansy what you told me, Blaise."

He tugged his companions along and they took several steps away from Ron. The blond turned his head to look at Ron and sneered, "Besides, you looked like an enraged porcupine – and lay off drinking, it makes your face splotchy."

Ron noticed that Malfoy wobbled a bit, just like Harry. Sighing, he walked unsteadily towards the Room of Requirement – and the future.


	6. News from Remus

**March 24th, 1997**

Harry shouldered his schoolbag and burst out of the Charms classroom. When he was at the door, he turned around and lazily swished his wand to freeze the pile of books and stop Professor Flitwick from tipping over. He frowned, noting Dennis' adoring gaze.

Harry walked past the statue of the humpbacked witch, shaking his head. He could swear he saw something move, but he had no time to investigate. When he was just passing through the Trophy Room, where his life with Draco had started, he heard someone.

He smiled broadly when he saw his Dragon walking between Pansy and Blaise.

"Hi there," said Harry, stopping in front of his boyfriend and extending his hand. Draco took it and they just stood there for a moment.

Pansy said irritatedly, "Come on, kiss! We're not like your bigoted friends, Harry!"

Harry glared at her. Draco swept down and kissed him briefly, murmuring in his ear, "Remember last night?"

Harry blushed and lifted the rim of his glasses with his pinky. He didn't see Blaise nudge Pansy.

Tucking a strand of her bronze-colored hair behind her ear, she said, "Harry, can you teach me…" Pansy turned to look beseechingly at Draco, but he pretended not to see her.

"….how to catch the Quaffle?" finished she, scowling at the blond Slytherin.

"The Quaffle?" asked Harry a bit confused.

"What Pansy means…" explained Draco, turning to glare at his former girlfriend, "... is that she wants you to teach her how to catch the Snitch."

"She wants to try for the Seeker position, foolish girl," added Draco smirking, and Pansy scowled fiercely at him.

"So you want me to…."

"Show me how you catch the …. shiny thing," said Pansy, shrugging and exchanging a covert glance with Blaise.

Harry put his bag down and stepped back; he crouched and held his right hand aloft while he grabbed an imaginary broom with his left.

"You catch it like this…." said he, leaning forward.

"What if the Snitch is behind you?" asked Blaise innocently.

Harry twisted sideways and turned to the left, "You turn like…."

He twisted towards the door of the Trophy room and he didn't see Draco bend down and reach into his schoolbag.

"Ouch!" yelled Draco, taking his left hand back and nursing it.

"What do you have in that bag, a miniature hippogriff? Something bit me!"

Harry narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend, "Nothing, it's just Hector, my hedgehog. What were you doing?

"Trying to steal something?" said Harry smirking.

Draco spluttered and replied, "Nothing, I just…" He blushed and Harry thought he looked cute like this. Suddenly he remembered that Remus was waiting for him and said hurriedly, "We'll talk later…

"Have to go, bye!" he waved his left hand, grabbing his schoolbag with his right.

While he was walking away, he heard Pansy scolding Draco, "Now you've done it! Have to research the answer now."

Draco grumbled, "What kind of distraction was that, Pansy?

"You don't even know what a Snitch is!" added he indignantly.

Blaise snickered and said, "C'mon, let's go to the Library."

Harry made his way to the stairs, and put his hand inside his bag, checking that his hedgehog was all right. Everyone seemed intent on startling poor Hector.

Harry arrived at the Headmaster's office and he mumbled, 'Lemon drops.' When the gargoyle didn't open up, he repeated the name of different sweets, but it didn't move an inch. He cast _Tempus_ and looked at the time, mumbling, "Have to hurry or I won't make it in time to Snape's class. If I'm late, everyone will laugh, I can hear Ron's snickers…."

The gargoyle opened suddenly and Harry hurriedly stepped into the circular staircase, noting that Dumbledore now used Muggle sweets for his passwords.

Harry entered the circular office and saw Remus seated on the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk. Remus looked tired and haggard, but he seemed to have acquired a bit of a tan in Australia. His set of robes were neat, though there were two patches that appeared to be darned haphazardly. Probably Tonks hadn't mastered her mother's housekeeping spells yet, thought Harry.

The Marauder was reading intently a book and looked up when he saw Harry, a broad smile on his face. His light brown hair had more gray flecks in it, but otherwise he was the same Professor Lupin he'd met on the train in Third Year. He seemed more carefree; life in Australia must suit him.

Harry nearly bowled him over when he barreled into the Marauder.

"Whoa, Harry! Nice to see you!" said Remus softly while he hugged the Gryffindor tightly.

He sniffed Harry's hair and then he said quietly, "Harry, you smell different."

Harry backed away and said worriedly, "What d'you mean?"

"Your scent is strange. You changed your diet or something? You smell different, as if you were... older?" said Remus tentatively.

Harry was in a quandary, he didn't want to explain his time jaunt to Remus - because he would have to tell him that he had done himself in. But his Professor was very smart, and he had no doubt that the man would find the truth sooner or later - unless he was somehow distracted.

His Slytherin side came up with the perfect distraction.

He blushed and stammered convincingly, "Th... that might be because Draco and I…"

He put down his bag and scoffed his shoes on the stone floor, "…are together."

Remus gasped; looking intently at Harry, he said, "You and Malfoy's son?"

Harry continued nervously, "Actually, we've been together since October 15th. Since the beginning of the year he lay off attacking me. Draco made the first peaceful gesture and we struck a friendship."

Harry sat on Dumbledore's desk but when Remus frowned at him; he got up and plopped down on the other chair. He continued, "It grew slowly until now."

He hugged himself, suddenly unsure of his plan. What if Remus reacted like his friends did and cut him off completely? In the future he remembered, Remus hadn't known he was gay – he'd been killed before that.

He averted his gaze, looking at Fawkes, the phoenix. Fawkes' beady eyes looked intently at Harry, and he preened a bit – his red-golden plumage moving restlessly. The phoenix trilled softly, and the sound calmed Harry considerably. Still, he avoided looking at Remus' face, not wanting to see his disappointment.

Harry had been deathly afraid of people finding out he was gay, because the bloody Wizarding World turned against him using any excuse – like when they suspected he was a Dark Wizard just because he was a Parseltongue; or when they thought he was lying and Voldemort hadn't returned. He was telling the truth when he told Draco his reasons for not wanting to go with him to Hogsmeade that fateful day – but Harry knew he could've been more tactful.

Remus said with a small smile, "It's alright, Harry. You're still James' son, and it doesn't matter to me who you love – only that you are happy."

Remus put the book that he'd been nervously opening and closing on the table and asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Harry heaved a sigh of relief. He should've trusted that Remus would not desert him. He knew what it felt like to be ostracized for something that was out of one's control.

Harry was ashamed to tell Remus that he'd hardly cared for Draco at all, not enough to tell his surrogate godfather – that he treated the Slytherin like a convenient outlet for his sexual endeavors. Until the bitter facts of life forced him to travel to the past to undo his error – when he realized that he did love Draco.

Instead he said, "You were occupied with the Order, and then you married Tonks and left."

Harry grabbed a quill that was on the table and toyed with it. He looked up at Remus and asked, "By the way, had a nice time?"

Remus perked up and replied, "Yes, we had a wonderful time. It was fun; I wish I could tell Siri…"

He stopped and looked at Harry with an anguished expression; the two shared a look, remembering their beloved friend who had fallen into the Veil – after he was struck by a spell cast by his demented cousin, Bellatrix.

Sensing their dark mood, Fawkes swooped from his perch and landed on Harry's shoulder – his golden claws squeezed him gently as he briefly trilled a few notes.

Sighing, Remus told Harry he was coming back to resume his job.

"Will you teach me useful spells?" asked Harry with a hopeful expression.

Fawkes squeezed Harry one more time and then flew back to his perch. Once there, he followed their movements intently.

Remus nodded and looked at his watch, wondering where Tonks was.

"Where's the Headmaster?" asked Harry when a whirring silver contraption reminded him of the time he laid waste to Dumbledore's office.

"Rubeus told me he left hurriedly, he was looking for a ring," answered Remus.

"That reminds me," he pushed the book he'd been reading towards Harry.

Harry picked it up gingerly and read the cover, ' _Ancient legends of immortality_ ' by Felton Watson.

He looked up at Remus inquiringly.

"I told you that we were searching for artifacts in Ayers Rock," said Remus.

He took out a Wizarding photo from his pocket and continued, "Well, yesterday Tonks and I were meandering along a path; a place where tourists are not allowed. We discovered something very unsettling inside a cavern."

Remus looked towards the windows and the mountains beyond. He said meditatively, "We found an old painting of You-know-who."

"But how did you know it was him?" asked Harry skeptically.

Remus handed him the photograph. Harry took it, peering at it curiously; there was a rocky wall, where the light cast by a torch flickered and illuminated Tonks. She had pink hair and was pointing excitedly towards the left. Harry followed her waving arm and gasped when he saw a man depicted in silhouette. It was a simple drawing, but the man clearly had no nose, and he was unmistakably wearing some kind of robes, with a stick on his hand. It was next to a crudely drawn circle of a serpent eating its tail.

Trying not to show how much the photograph had shaken him, Harry shrugged and said nonchalantly, "So what? Voldemort must've gone there when he was young."

Remus said pensively, "But we have no records of him leaving Europe.

"Did you notice the circle?"

"Yeah."

"That's the _Ouroboros_. It's the symbol of immortality," said Remus.

Harry shuddered, thinking about the old man who allowed him to go back in time and so gave him another chance with Draco. Could he be allied with Voldemort?

Remus looked towards the Pensieve and added, "Besides, I did a magical check to find out the age of the drawings." He picked up the book and hefted it in his hand, "They're more than a thousand years old."

Harry gasped; he was going to say something when the door opened and Nymphadora Tonks strolled in. She had spiky purple hair, and her robes were slightly askew.

"Wotcher, Harry!" greeted Tonks.

She approached them walking confidently, but when she was next to the desk she stumbled and nearly toppled the whirring silver contraption, which was stopped by Harry. Tonks stood next to him and ruffled his hair.

Harry looked up at her, smiling warmly, "How are you, Tonks?"

"I'm fine, Harry"

She skipped to the other chair and put her hand on Remus' shoulder.

"Have to go now and look at that house in Hogsmeade, Remus."

Turning to Harry, she added, "I saw Ron on the way here, the poor dear didn't look too well." She grimaced and added, "He smelt like Firewhiskey. You two are in trouble, aren't you?"

Harry scrunched his face and replied, "No. Nothing we can't handle," thinking that his homophobe ex-friend was really sinking low.

Tonks touched Remus' shoulder and said, "You've told Harry the news, haven't you?"

Intrigued, Harry asked, "What news?"

Tonks smiled and patted her abdomen, "We're going to have a baby!"

Harry beamed, "Congratulations! Is it a boy or a girl?"

"We don't know yet, Tonks found out a week ago," said Remus softly.

"We're going to name him Antares," said she, beaming proudly.

"Tonks, that's a Pureblood name, let's go for something simpler," replied Remus, and then sighed. Harry suspected that this was an argument they'd already had several times.

Remus took out a parchment from the desk and the quill Harry had been toying with and hastily scribbled a note. He handed it to Harry saying, "This is for Severus. I know he can be a bit… stringent at times."

Shaking his head, Harry took the note, "If you only knew!"

* * *

Harry entered the Potions classroom timidly, clutching the note Remus had given him.

Severus Snape swooped down towards Harry, glaring at him, "Finally you make your appearance, Mr. Potter. That merits five points from Gryffindor for your tardiness."

Scowling, Harry gave him the note.

The Potions Master opened it disdainfully and read it.

"What are you waiting for, Potter, take your seat!" said Snape angrily.

"But the note said…"

"Still, you were late in the company of that… Professor," replied Snape contemptuously.

Harry glared and took his seat next to Pansy. He turned around and didn't see Draco.

Pansy leaned towards him and whispered, "Draco's in the library, researching our… I mean his Charms homework."

Snape sat down on his chair and asked Harry threateningly, "Potter, suppose I picked up fluxweed during the new moon. What could I use it for?"

Harry replied calmly, "Many potions, just not Polyjuice, that needs fluxweed picked at full moon."

Harry grinned when he heard several Gryffindors gasping incredulously, including Hermione and Ron.

"Indeed," replied Snape, his pale face flushing angrily - without giving him any House points.

He motioned towards the blackboard where the instructions for the Magical Strengthening Solution were, "Potter, you will try to brew that. I hope Miss Parkinson's help is enough to compensate your abysmal potions skills."

Harry glared at him. Pansy nudged him and pointed at the table, where the ingredients for the potion were laid out. She said, "You'll have to get the Erumpent horn, it was too high for me."

He scowled, was Pansy trying to trick him again? He suspected some Slytherin plot when she wanted to be shown the Seeker moves. Pansy didn't care for Quidditch, just like Hermione – despite her prat of a boyfriend.

He stood up to go to the cupboard, but when he saw Ron approaching it, muttering something under his breath, Harry sat down and made Pansy go instead. The Slytherin girl left in a huff, mumbling something about domineering Gryffindors.

Harry took out his book and began to read it lazily. Fortunately this was a potion he remembered well from the future, so he knew how to prepare it. He blushed at his doodles and put down the book next to the ingredients.

Harry waved his wand and lit a fire under the cauldron, and then he upended the vial of salamander blood.

He idly noticed Ron walking back to his table, holding three vials with his left hand and his potions book with his right, still muttering to himself. Harry rolled his eyes and turned to face the cauldron.

Suddenly Snape appeared next to him and forcefully grabbed his book.

He opened it and began to examine it carefully.

Harry frowned fiercely at the Potions Master - luckily George had taught him a spell to disguise his magical doodles. Snorting disdainfully, Snape put the book down and glided away - his robes billowing behind him.

Harry's eyes narrowed, following the swirling movement of the black robes. He suspected Snape might have hinkypuffs attached to his back which created a breeze to billow his robes - but he couldn't prove it just yet. Anyway, if he did, Draco would be mad for treating his mentor so.

He added the rest of the ingredients in the correct order until he got to the pomegranate juice.

He debated whether to add it or drink it, but finally he decided to make the potion right and astound Snape – and his erstwhile friends. Harry turned to the Gryffindor side of the room and caught Hermione looking intently at him.

With a start, Harry realized she was looking hungrily at his book. He picked it up carefully and clutched it to his chest. What was the matter with these two? Were they working as a team to steal his book? He snorted when he thought that Ron would be mighty surprised.

When Pansy returned, he instructed her how to stir correctly the potion– seven stirs clockwise and seventy counter-clockwise; and then it was to be kept simmering for seven minutes.

Harry didn't notice Ron surreptitiously handing something to Hermione, or her waving her wand towards him.

He gazed longingly at the thick Erumpent horn, which looked just like Draco's -

Harry adjusted his robes and squirmed in his seat, vividly recalling last night…

* * *

When Draco returned from the bathroom, a white towel hugged his slim hips. Harry's gaze followed hungrily the drops of water that slid down his alabaster chest to disappear into the towel.

He felt his cock stir once more; he could never get enough of his Dragon.

He followed attentively the growing tent in his towel, as Draco's cock began to grow in sympathy.

He hungered to own Draco completely – to be owned by him. He could understand that serpent in the old man's ring. He wanted to bite his own tail – Draco – and stay like that forever.

Draco eyed hungrily his Gryffindor, keeping this memory in perpetuity – Harry sprawled lazily on the bed, his glasses askew, and his book above his lap, slowly inching upwards as it was lifted by his rosy cock.

He'd never tire of Harry, who gave as good as he got, who finally proved to be both attentive and demanding. He suspected he knew the reasons for his seemingly sudden change – but this Harry, he belonged to him completely. He'd never let go of the Gryffindor now that they were truly one.

Draco took off his towel in one fluid motion and he smirked when he saw Harry blush and lick his lips hungrily. Harry stared mesmerized at Draco's angry red cock, as if he were a bird staring at a hungry snake.

Draco sat astride Harry and gently took the book and put it next to the Gryffindor tie near the pillow. He grabbed Harry's cock and pumped it lazily, rubbing the foreskin up and down the glans. He smiled when Harry moaned.

Without ceasing his ministrations, he leaned down and took off his glasses, which he put on the bureau again. He whispered huskily, "What do you want, Harry?"

Harry mumbled, "Want you to take me."

Draco pretended not to hear, while he moved his hand below Harry's balls – his thumb and index fingers circling Harry's entrance.

Harry jerked his hips, wanting more contact. When Draco retired his fingers, Harry tried to glare, but ended up looking hungrily at him while he said loudly, "Want you to fuck me!"

Draco chuckled tenderly and grabbed his wand, casting a lubrication charm on his cock. He pushed one finger inside Harry while he ordered, "I want you to grab your ankles and open yourself for me. Can you do that, Harry? Open up so I can see all of you?"

Harry moaned wantonly and spread his legs, grabbing his shins and blushing fiercely.

Draco continued rubbing him inside, scissoring his fingers - lovingly preparing his Gryffindor. He growled when he felt Harry clench around his fingers. Harry glared at him, "Now! Dragon… want you now!"

Draco knelt on the bed and grabbed his cock with his left hand, guiding it towards Harry's entrance, and with his right hand he rubbed Harry around that sensitive spot – while Harry whimpered and maintained his position.

He entered Harry with a measured thrust, careful not to be too forceful. Draco was a bit nervous, he was still inexpert at this whole business of fucking him – until Harry grunted and jerked backwards, impaling himself halfway on Draco's cock.

Draco groaned, feeling the need to possess Harry, to make him his own – so that he would never stray again, would never leave him. He slowly speared Harry until the Gryffindor shouted, "Harder…. bloody move!"

When he was sunk to the hilt inside Harry, Draco pumped his cock in and out in fierce thrusts. He bent down and kissed him. Harry's lips opened immediately, and his tongue plunged deeply into Draco's mouth, mimicking the movements Draco was making below.

His legs were getting stiff so Harry put them around Draco's shoulders. Draco pumped his cock in and out of Harry's warm channel, varying the length and force of his strokes for a while, his sweat dropping down into Harry's chest. Harry's abdomen was smeared with precome, leaking steadily from his glans.

Harry was near coming from the forceful rubbing of his insides against Draco's thick cock. The squelching sound of their joining made him very hot. Harry moaned wantonly and decided that he would make Draco come first.

Draco growled fiercely when Harry wickedly clenched around his girth. He pumped twice more before he came with a shout.

Harry's hand moved to his cock and was joined by Draco's; with their motion, Harry had enough and came all over his chest.

Afterwards, Draco slipped out of him with a popping sound. He reached across the recumbent Harry and grabbed his wand, cleaning them. Afterwards he slumped tiredly next to him. Harry turned to the left and felt Draco curled up against him. Before they left for their respective dormitories, they dozed for a while, tired of their forceful activities, until…

* * *

… a finger poked Harry's side, startling him from his recollection. He heard Pansy whining, "Now what, Harry – the seven minutes are up!"

Harry glared weakly at the Slytherin girl who disturbed him from his pleasant memories and regretfully threw the Erumpent horn into the cauldron. When the potion was finished, Harry prepared the vial and put it on Snape's desk; walking a bit awkwardly with his schoolbag in front of him to hide his erection.

He made his way out of the classroom. He'd been so engrossed in his pleasant memory that he didn't notice the moment when his book had been levitated to the Gryffindor side of the room or the replacement that was put there; the book which Ron had taken from the cupboard.

Harry didn't notice Hermione's satisfied smirk as she left the classroom just before him, tugging a bewildered Ron.

 


	7. The perils of bookswapping

 

Harry made his way out of the Potions classrooms, not without making sure that his hedgehog was right. He idly wondered what they ate; he saw Hermione walking ahead and almost asked her – she was sure to know that after all – but he distrusted her. She'd treated him so awfully in the other future. Besides, she was hurriedly tugging Ron behind her. Probably they were going to find an empty classroom to snog in, thought Harry disgustedly.

His stomach rumbled, reminding him that it was almost time to eat. Harry ascended the staircase to the ground floor, and Terry Boot bumped into him. The Ravenclaw was reading a book. Bloody intellectual boyfriend-stealer, thought Harry rubbing his shoulder.

He was in the Entrance Hall when he saw Draco ahead; he noticed proudly that the Gryffindor hourglass above Draco seemed to have more gemstones than the others.

He waved to his boyfriend and hurried to meet him.

Harry put his hand on Draco's shoulder and they walked together to the Great Hall.

"Still got that small hippogriff on your bag, Harry?" drawled Draco while he quirked an eyebrow.

Harry huffed and put his bag on the floor; he gingerly reached inside and grabbed Hector. He took out the hedgehog and showed it to Draco, softly touching his quills.

"Draco, meet Hector."

"Don't know what you see in this animal, Harry," muttered Draco unimpressed.

Harry narrowed his eyes, opting not to tell his boyfriend that the prickly animal reminded him of the time when Draco was turned into a ferret – he valued his life after all.

"I always wanted a pet," Harry hefted the hedgehog close to him, "I've Hedwig now, but Hector is small and can go with me anywhere."

"Better watch out, or one of your clumsy Gryffindorks will squash it," said Draco, stooping to pet Hector.

A mocking voice startled the Seekers, "Well, well – Potter and his bitch!"

Draco turned and saw Zacharias Smith, sauntering along with Marcus Flint and Cormac McLaggen. Cormac stopped and leaned against the armor next to the front door while Flint and Smith leered and continued advancing on the Seekers.

"Got tired of riding Potter's cock, Malfoy?" drawled Smith while he made obscene motions with his hands. McLaggen and Flint guffawed loudly.

Harry wanted desperately to whip out his wand and cast nasty spells on these bullies, but he stopped after he grabbed his wand. He knew he should let his boyfriend deal with this. Draco was not a damsel in distress; he was the Slytherin Prince and Dumbledore's spy. Going on and rescuing him – without pausing to think about Draco's feelings – that was something that the old Harry would've done. He had to trust Draco.

Harry put the hedgehog in his bag and then grabbed Draco's shoulder, squeezing it gently - silently lending him his support.

"What, cat got your tongue, Malfoy?" drawled Smith.

"Naw, he's probably wants to wrap it around Potter's cock!" added Flint cruelly and smacked Smith on the shoulder.

Draco flinched and gingerly put his hand on the pocket of his robe, trying to get out his wand.

Harry cringed, thinking that perhaps the damage he'd inflicted the past few months was too deep. After all, Smith and Flint were saying the things Harry had thought – and said to Draco – several times. Draco stepped backwards; shakily pointing behind the bullies, he grimaced and yelled, "The Da… Dark Lord's here!" Without anyone noticing, Draco swished his wand and muttered a spell Narcissa taught him.

The boys turned and saw a shadow flitting across the floor towards them. They yelled in pure fear and tried to run away, but Harry cast a charm to hold them in place.

Draco sauntered towards them, "What? The big bad boys afraid of the Dark Lord?"

He lazily circled Flint, who was jerking in vain, trying to move his feet, "You dream about the Dark Lord entering you - right, Flint?"

He brushed an imaginary piece of lint off Smith's robes, "And you, the little Hufflepuff that could… a complete cowardly arse!"

Draco turned around and walked to Harry, lazily waving his wand and casting a charm that wrote white indelible words on the back of their robes, ' _The Dark Lord makes me wet.'_

"C'mon, Harry - let's leave these losers behind."

They took several steps towards the Great Hall when Draco turned to the bullies and sniffed disdainfully, "By the way, Smith – you've wet your trousers!"

Draco smirked while Harry guffawed loudly.

As they entered the Great Hall, Harry looked at Draco, admiring his silver hair shining in the afternoon sunlight. This was one of the reasons why he respected Draco – people would be cruel and put him down, but he always managed to stand up again and deliver a sharp retort. He patted Draco on his back. Both snickered, thinking of the bullies they left behind; and they made their way to their tables.

Draco sat down in the middle of the Slytherin table, between Pansy and Blaise. Pansy nudged him, "Got the information about that charm?"

Draco shrugged nonchalantly, "Course I did, Pans!" His cheeks were rosy because of the anger he felt towards those bullies; apparently the Houses were united in one thing only – in their homophobia.

Blaise sipped from his goblet filled with pumpkin juice, he noticed Draco's color, "Flint still giving you trouble?"

Draco nodded and grabbed his fork, diving into the shepherd's pie.

"I'll write to dad and he'll straighten up his family," said Pansy indignantly.

Draco shook his head while he ate.

"Pass me the flagon, will you Pansy," said Blaise and winked at her.

He refilled his goblet and added meditatively, "I'm sure Draco can deal with Flint – after all, he deals with You-kn… humph!" Blaise glared at Draco, rubbing his ribs where Draco's elbow had poked him sharply.

"Shut up, Blaise, don't go divulging my plans," huffed Draco.

Blaise rolled his eyes and turned to Pansy, "Like he doesn't like to talk about his schemes – remember that time on the train, Pansy - when he told us about his new plans concerning…"

A piece of bread flew up from the table and stuffed itself in Blaise's mouth, effectively shutting him up. Draco nodded gratefully to Pansy, who put her wand back in the pocket of her robes with a satisfied sigh.

* * *

Harry sat down between Ginny and Neville, glaring at Terry Boot. He looked around and didn't see his ex-friends. He looked to the High Table. He frowned when he noticed Snape approaching it and sitting down; his robes fluttering limply behind him – doubtlessly the poor Hinkypuffs were getting tired.

McGonagall was absent, but someone else was there. Harry waved enthusiastically to Remus, who nodded to him and absently righted a goblet that Tonks had knocked off when she sat down.

"So how are you and Draco getting along?" asked Ginny while she spread her napkin.

"Very well, Ginny, very well."

"I still can't picture you with Malfoy; sometimes I think I'm dreaming," said Neville, carefully cutting his shepherd's pie with the precision he would use on his precious sneezewort.

"To be truthful, Neville, so do I," shuddered Harry, thinking about the time when he lost Draco.

* * *

Harry plopped down on his bed and looked around carefully; seeing no one, he opened his bag and took out his hedgehog. He petted his head and put him in the cage he'd conjured earlier. Then he put in the vegetables he'd pilfered from dinner, hoping the animal would eat at least one of them.

He opened his trunk and took out the book he stole from the Library – the Invisibility Cloak was pretty handy. The thick tome was titled, _'How wizards wield their wands' by Luz T. Luurve._

He opened his bag and took out his Transfigurations book and his self-inking quill. Harry had been painstakingly researching new positions for him and Draco – after all, he already knew the answers for homework so he had some free time on his hands. He reclined on the pillows and put the book on his lap. He put the tome beside him and he grabbed his quill. He was actually looking forward to doing research for once.

Harry opened the book and frowned when he noticed it looked different. He ruffled through the pages. Harry was incensed when he realized this was not the book where he'd drawn his magical doodles.

He peered at the title; it appeared to be a potions book. He got increasingly mad when he read in the first page, _'Property of the Half-Blood Prince.'_

Harry looked around, fuming – just who was this bloody Half-Blood Prince and how come he had his book instead of his Transfigurations textbook! He glared at the tome – all that time spent researching gone to waste.

Bloody Snape must have exchanged the book during potions!

Harry read some of the words scrawled on the pages and he took mental note of a spell apparently designed to use on one's enemies; he snorted delightedly – at least he'd have something to use when people harassed him. He looked intently at the curlicued writing; it seemed very similar to that awful Ravenclaw's - who conveniently bumped into him a while ago.

Harry huffed; he needed reinforcements now. He threw the bloody book aside and sat up. He called out loud, "Dobby!"

There was a pop and the house-elf appeared next to his bed. Dobby was wearing what appeared to be a Gryffindor pillowcase; his bat-like ears quivered with delight when he saw Harry. His small body bobbed up and down and his thin, long nose touched the duvet as he bowed to Harry.

"Master called Dobby!"

Dobby glanced around and rubbed his hands, "What can Dobby do for master?" He frowned and glared at the wall, "That Malfoy boy troubling Master again? Dobby will avenge master!"

Harry put up his hands to stop the elf's tirade and wondered if this was a good idea after all.

"Wait Dobby, Draco is a good friend of mine now!"

Harry leaned forward; he grabbed one of Dobby's floppy ears and whispered to him, "I want you to watch carefully Terry Boot. If he goes near the Room of Requirement – tell me at once!"

Dobby nodded, nervously grabbing the frayed edge of his red and golden garment. "Dobby will do as Master says! He will report to Master when that boy goes to the Room!"

Dobby curtsied, muttering to himself, "Dobby will also watch the evil Malfoy boy and will put him in his place!" Then he disappeared with a popping sound.

Harry stood up and paced around nervously, apparently he'd unleashed the wrath of Dobby. He didn't trust the house-elf to behave; he might decide to throw a cake on Draco's head or something worse. He needed help watching that unruly house-elf. He decided to call other reinforcements.

"Kreacher!"

The old Black house-elf appeared with a seemingly careless popping sound.

He was dressed in a threadbare tea towel wrapped around his middle like a loincloth – he reminded Harry of an old Tarzan movie. Large tufts of white hair grew from his bat-like ears. His wrinkled face grimaced in disgust when he saw Harry.

"… nasty brat calling me in the middle of my deserved nap. Bloody mudblood traitor that is my master instead of the nice Pureblood boy who…"

Harry sighed and interrupted the elf's tirade, "Kreacher – I need you to watch Dobby."

The irate house-elf peered at Harry with his rheumy blue eyes, he was about to interrupt Harry when the Gryffindor continued, "I reckon Dobby's a bit… temperamental. I want you to stop him from doing something to Draco… Draco Malfoy."

Kreacher's eyes lit up and he bowed, "Kreacher will do as master says…" he continued watching the floor and mumbling, "…nasty little mudblood traitor that he is.

"Yes, Kreacher will watch the nice Malfoy boy, who should be Kreacher's master instead of the bloody…"

He looked up and was startled when he saw Harry, "Master is still here?"

He continued muttering to himself, "He should be with the other blood traitors; Kreacher thinks they ditched him, traitorous bastards that they are."

Harry flinched and then sighed in relief when Kreacher finally disappeared with a popping sound.

He sat on the bed, a bit overwhelmed by the elves' antics. Finally his mood lifted, thinking about Dobby watching Boot, and he rubbed his hands gleefully - that'll teach Boot to swap his book. Perhaps the Ravenclaw was trying to steal Draco from him again.

* * *

After they left the potions classroom, Hermione tugged a protesting Ron by his Gryffindor tie. They ascended the stairs and she opened the door of an empty classroom on the second floor.

"Mione! You're just like Fred… or George. One of them was Polyjuiced as me…"

"Whatever you're talking about?" snapped Hermione, brushing aside a strand of her bushy hair. Without waiting for an answer, she took out her wand and spelled the door closed.

She turned to Ron and asked, "The book you gave me, you took it from the cupboard?"

He nodded irately, and then his stomach made a rumbling sound – which Hermione chose to ignore. She bent down and rummaged in her bag, finally taking out a book she held it gingerly and peered at it cautiously.

"Seems to be normal," she opened it and read the title. She huffed; it appeared to be their normal Transfigurations textbook. She stabbed her wand angrily towards the book _, "Finite incantatem!"_

When nothing happened, she clutched the book to her chest, muttering, "I have to find out about those notes – I bet McGonagall wrote her own spells there and that's why Harry got the perfect hedgehog!"

"Perhaps it's protected by Harry's pouf magic!" sneered Ron.

Hermione smacked him on the head with the book, "I'm tired of your homophobic rants!"

He looked incredulously at her, "Why, you've heard me before!"

"Hush, Ron, Let me think," snapped Hermione, pacing back and forth in the small classroom.

She cast different spells at the book and was incensed when nothing seemed to happen.

"I can't undo Harry's spell. I need help!" said Hermione, tugging her sweater nervously.

Ron blurted, "Let's go to McGonagall!"

The two made their way to McGonagall's office. After Hermione knocked on the door, McGonagall's gruff voice told them to enter. They found the Transfigurations Professor reading intently a journal. Her severe bun was hidden beneath her pointy hat and her square glasses appeared to have been polished recently. With a patient sigh, McGonagall put the journal on the table. She looked up at them inquiringly and bade them sit down. When Ron's stomach rumbled again, she motioned towards a tin can full of cookies.

Ron grabbed the can and started wolfing down the cookies.

Hermione pushed the Transfigurations book towards McGonagall, "Could you help me with his book, Professor? It seems to be spelled, and I really yearn to practice what's in there."

Hermione hid a smirk, thinking that her favorite professor would be grateful that she returned the book full with McGonagall's own scribbled notes. The Transfigurations teacher was bound to share those insights with her, thought Hermione smugly.

McGonagall gingerly grabbed the book and opened it. She peered curiously at it. Apparently it was a common Transfigurations textbook. She sniffed disdainfully - the author was certainly no friend of hers; her explanations were a bit absurd at times. She skimmed through the book and found it completely normal.

She took out her wand, and uttered a spell she was forced to learn in order to tap into the Weasley Twins' secret notes during her class, _'Revelo maximus!'_

With a satisfied sigh, McGonagall opened the book – and was startled out of her wits when an obscene _phallic thingy_ winked at her and slithered insinuatingly across the page.

She blanched and her pencil-thin eyebrows shot upward; she closed the book forcefully.

"Granger, just what do you intend to do with this?" snapped McGonagall. Her lips were pursed and she was frowning at a seemingly oblivious Hermione.

"I'll practice what's there, of course," replied Hermione, wondering if McGonagall was too tired to process things properly. She gently touched Ron's shoulder, "I'm sure Ron will be only too glad to help me with it."

McGonagall shook her head furiously, and her pointy hat slipped a bit upon her head. She wondered what was going on in Gryffindor Tower - first Potter hooked up with the Malfoy boy – and now her favorite student came up to her with this _unseemly_ behavior.

Taking a deep breath, McGonagall opened the book to Harry's carefully researched drawings of two males coupling. She bent her head and watched them carefully – while her hat slipped further. Finally she remarked acidly, "You don't have the equipment for this, Granger!"

"Oh, that's no problem" - Hermione waved her hand offhandedly – "I'm sure Professor Flitwick will be glad to help me with it."

McGonagall goggled openly – while Ron continued his attack on her cookies.

"I've always admired his wandwork," finished Hermione, looking dreamily in the distance - thinking about the great notes she was sure to receive.

Minerva stood up suddenly; her pointy hat threatened to fall to the floor any minute, but she was too unsettled to care. She paced back and forth - she just couldn't believe what her favorite student got up to. Minerva wished Albus was here to deal with this untoward behavior; but he was busy gallivanting around - searching for a bloody ring, of all things!

"Miss Granger" – said she, breathing heavily –"that would be most unseemly!"

Very surprised, Hermione looked at the Transfigurations Professor. She couldn't understand why McGonagall suddenly appeared to be against teacher-student cooperation to solve intellectual endeavors.

"If that's not enough, Professor Snape could help me with a potion or two?" said Hermione tentatively.

"I'm sure he helped you do that," continued the witch, pointing to the book - which McGonagall was clutching tightly to her bosom.

Then she added in a pleading tone, "You must have done what's there yourself; after all, you're superb at Transfigurations!"

Glaring fiercely at Hermione, McGonagall threw the book to the table, and her hat finally fell to the floor. Startled, Ron looked up from his cookie feast muttering, "Wha de madder?"

There was a brief shimmer around the Deputy Headmistress, unnoticed by Ron and Hermione who were looking at each other and thinking about food and academics, respectively – and Hermione never knew how close she came to being mauled by an irate tabby cat.

"Granger and Weasley, that will be" – snapped McGonagall once she calmed down somewhat – "ten… no, twenty points from Gryffindor."

Hermione looked at her agape, wondering what had set off the usually benevolent Transfiguration professor.

"And you'll have detention with Professor Snape," added McGonagall menacingly. Looking intently at the book, she appeared to change her mind, "Better make it with Professor Flitwick."

Shaking her head, McGonagall changed her mind yet again, "No, better be Pomona Sprout."

"B… but why, Professor" stammered Hermione.

McGonagall glared at the lusty book, "For your cheek, Miss Granger … for your cheek."

McGonagall motioned imperiously towards the door and turned her back on her wayward students. After the disconsolate Gryffindors left, McGonagall turned to her desk and that bloody book. She gingerly picked it up and hefted it in her hand. When Albus came back, she would give it to him and she'd let him deal with the lusty Gryffindors.

Shaking her head, she ruefully recalled Albus' past and reflected that perhaps she should keep it after all – it could give Albus strange ideas.

 

 


	8. Express encounters

 

**March 26th, 1997**

On Wednesday afternoon, after an interesting DADA class where Tonks enthusiastically subbed for Remus, Harry dashed to the Owlery. He was worried about his hedgehog - he'd left Hector behind, and the animal apparently didn't like the vegetables he pilfered from his meals. He'd ask Dobby for help, maybe it would distract the elf from stalking Draco. Harry shook his head ruefully; Dobby didn't follow Boot as Harry asked him to, instead the elf appeared to be obsessed with his blond boyfriend.

The owls swooped and swirled above him, and Harry had to duck aside when a feathered bullet threatened to hit his head. He looked to the archway as Pig flew away. Apparently the exuberant owl was called by bigot Ron.

Harry gazed upward and found Hedwig perched near the top tier of the Owlery.

He called to her but she refused to come to him. Harry took out a special owl treat he'd taken from Draco and lifted it towards Hedwig, silently beseeching her to come down; but the irate owl apparently found his owl treats not to her liking. Harry paced back and forth and talked to the snowy owl, "Oi, Hedwig! I reckon you must be pretty mad cause I've forgotten you, but I had important things to do, I tell you!"

Sighing, Harry rummaged in his schoolbag; he finally took out a dead mouse he'd taken from an indignant Crookshanks – served the half-Kneazle well for being Hermione's pet! He dangled the dead rodent in front of him and softly cajoled Hedwig, "You're my best friend! You were there that time in Privet Drive, after I had that fight with Draco in the station, you heard me out and consoled me, Hedwig! Don't be mad!"

Harry grimaced, thinking about the time when he punched the wall after Draco taunted him on the platform – they'd arrived home after graduating. Harry tried to speak with Draco one last time but the Slytherin retorted cruelly, reverting to his former self. Ron and Hermione – the traitorous bastards – had to hold him back because he tried to punch Draco.

Hedwig heard him out when all he had left of his love was a simple Wizarding photo. It was a bleak time that he tried to forget as much as he could, but he was apparently unable to – yet his memories of the future grew weaker every day.

Finally Hedwig relented; perhaps because of Harry's entreaties - or maybe because of the mouse. She swooped down from her perch and landed on Harry's shoulder. She nibbled his ear not so affectionately and finally deigned to grab the rodent.

Harry ruffled her feathers gently. He stopped when Hedwig spread her wings and hooted angrily. Shaking his head – the owl started to resemble Draco a bit too much for his tastes – Harry proceeded to tell her about his adventures, indirectly mentioning his time travel.

Hedwig looked sharply at Harry and violently shook her head – such matters as time jaunting were beneath her notice.

Afterward, a satisfied Harry made his way to Gryffindor Tower. He was walking down a corridor when he saw a massive shape just ahead. Grinning, he ran towards Hagrid.

Hagrid smiled and hastily tucked something inside his trousers, beneath his moleskin overcoat. Harry was too happy to see his friend was back to notice this, however.

"How are yeh, Harry? Malfoy… I mean Draco, treating yeh well?" asked Hagrid concernedly. He patted Harry's head gingerly with his enormous hand.

Harry beamed; Hagrid was one of the only few who didn't care that he was gay. His first friend accepted him as he was.

"Yes, Draco's great! You're back from your trip?"

"Well" - Hagrid restlessly moved his feet encased in beaverskin boots – "my trip was good, an' I did what the Headmaster wanted an' all." Hagrid thumped his chest proudly, "An' I got the spelt ring!"

Realizing he had inadvertently let out a secret, Hagrid looked around shiftily and then rested his gaze on Harry, "Forget I said that, Harry."

Harry made the mental note to find out what this ring was all about – maybe Hagrid met the old geezer who helped him travel back in time and got his ring?

After gossiping a bit more, Harry made his way back to Gryffindor Tower, almost skipping along the way like a certain Luna Lovegood.

\--

The Fat Lady was trying to sing _Habanera_ from Carmen; she squawked indignantly when Harry coolly informed her that she was a bit too voluminous for the role. The Lady huffed and stepped aside when Harry muttered the password.

He stepped into the Common Room and caught the tail end of a conversation.

"… you've lost us a lot of points, Hermione!" Seamus glared and stomped his foot.

"Seamus, I don't know why McGonagall was so angry," Hermione essayed a weak smile, "I only gave her back her own book. I guess…"

"Doesn't matter, Hermione. You may have cost us the House Cup!" interjected Lavender Brown, her face as red as a ripe tomato.

"But I was just…" Hermione looked imploringly towards Dean Thomas.

"Hermione, I guess you're just not as smart as you think," said Dean while he dribbled with a soccer ball.

Harry felt a strange sensation in his stomach. Granted, he was very angry with his former best friend, but she didn't deserve this cavalier treatment from the Gryffindors. She usually was the one who amassed enough House points to win the Cup. And now, just because she lost some points doing Merlin knew what, they turned against her – in just the same manner that they misjudged him in the past.

"CAN'T'VE MIONE RUINING OUR HOUSE POINTS, CAN WE?" shouted Harry.

The Gryffindors stopped harassing Hermione and turned to look at the irate Harry – just like ferrets about to be devoured by a rampaging hippogriff.

"AFTER ALL, SHE ONLY EARNS MOST OF THEM!" yelled Harry as the portraits shook and their inhabitants fled the Common Room in search of sanctuary. The couch rattled ominously and Lavender hastily jumped away from a flying book that almost smacked her in the face; she was not so lucky when a flying inkpot crashed against her hair and tinted it black, though. Dean's soccer ball flew and hit Seamus on the head.

Nearly Headless Nick chose that moment to float through the Fat Lady into the Common Room – the portrait shouted furiously but the noise was lost among the impending conflagration caused by Harry.

"IT'S EASY TO BLAME EVERYONE ELSE, RIGHT?"

The Gryffindor ghost decided that discretion was indeed the better part of valour and discreetly glided away to disappear through the wall.

The scared Gryffindors scampered away like mice about to be devoured by a hungry Kneazle, and only Hermione was left. The paintings stopped shaking and the flying books dropped to the floor with a loud thumping noise.

She looked at Harry a bit scared and ashamed; she opened her mouth to thank him but was stopped by Harry.

"Don't, Hermione – just don't," Harry put up his hands in warning, and then ascended the stairs to the dormitory.

Hermione burst into tears and walked tiredly to the stairs connecting to her dormitory, lamenting that ' _Hogwarts a History'_ didn't hit that slut Lavender in the face.

\--

On Thursday morning, Draco was walking to his Arithmancy class, which he took with the Ravenclaws.

He fussily arranged his Slytherin tie as he sidled next to Cho Chang. The beautiful witch smiled charmingly at him, "Hello, Draco, long time no see."

Draco nodded curtly, but then broke into a smile, "What's up, Cho?"

He squinted at her, "You're not jealous about Harry, are you?"

"Not at all, Draco. You can have him."

"It's just that I recall when you two were together, but then…" Draco smirked evilly as he waved towards the door of the classroom, "… I remember when you told me about your kiss with Harry."

Cho shrugged nonchalantly, "Yeah, that time on the Hogwarts Express."

They took their seats next to each other and waited for their professor. Mr. Fibonachi usually was late, so after Draco took out his parchments and quills, he gazed into the stone wall of the classroom and remembered that particular time.

\--

On the journey home in Fifth Year, after the D.A. members hexed Draco and his two friends to Kingdom Come, Harry, Ernie and Justin hoisted them upon the luggage rack and left the three hapless Slytherins there - remarking gleefully that they looked just like three gigantic slugs. Pompous Ernie McMillan made a cutting remark about Narcissa's face when she found her son in such a state and the happy D.A. members left them thus - with nary a care in the world.

Draco drifted in and out of consciousness, irritably wondering if those tentacles were his hands or other appendages. He swore he would get his revenge on the stupid Gryffindors.

They always reacted like this to him - they apparently found it perfectly fair to gang up on him, like the stupid twins and Potter that time after the Quidditch game; or this occasion, when a compartment full of Hogwarts students used him as an outlet to relieve their frustration.

During a moment of mental clarity Draco blushed, hoping that his mother would enter the train and finally take off their spells. He hoped he wouldn't have to go to St. Mungo's – the public shame would be too big to bear.

He fumed, imagining countless forms to enact bloody revenge on St. Scarface: He would love to have that hypocrite at his mercy. He mentally constructed a scene where Potter was lying motionless on the floor and he would just step on his face and break his nose; that would be extremely satisfying, indeed.

Draco squirmed when a tentacle touched his face, and he turned to the door of the compartment when he heard a noise.

Lacking his hands, he squinted to protect his eyes from the glare as someone entered. Draco scowled, thinking it was a Gryffindor who came back to mock him - and he was surprised when the figure approached him almost timidly.

The student peered up at him and he heard a sweet voice, "What have they done to you, Malfoy?"

He turned his face downward and recognized Cho Chang. "Just the usual, I guess," drawled Draco lazily.

He cringed when the girl took out her wand and swished it efficiently; he expected more damaging spells - instead he sighed when the tentacles disappeared.

Cho finished with a strong _Scourgify_ to rid Draco of the slime.

She put her wand back on the pocket of her jeans, "Hop down."

Draco climbed down from the rack and faltered. He would have fallen if not for Cho's steadying hand.

Once he was upright, Cho extended her hand and Draco gladly took it. He trembled as he sat down on the seat, "Thanks, Chang."

Cho fixed him with a glare worthy of a Slytherin, "You know you could call me Cho, _Draco_.

"After all, I've seen your warts" – Cho finished with a smirk – "and your tentacles. That implies some fellowship, I guess."

Cho pointed to the rest of slime on the floor and asked, "Who hexed you?"

"Your boyfriend and his gang of little do-gooders, if you must know," huffed Draco.

"Oh, he's not my boyfriend anymore, Draco."

"Might I ask why?" asked the Slytherin seemingly nonchalantly.

"We didn't hit it off. It was exciting at first but, well" - Cho shrugged and wiped a tear off her cheek when she remembered Cedric – "Harry has too much baggage, and our kiss was…"

Cho struggled to find the right words and finished with another shrug, "… rather _wet_ and unexciting. Besides, he and Granger, they're too close. She might as well be his girlfriend."

"I know what you mean, Cho," Draco scowled at the door of the compartment.

"Those three – they might as well form a threesome, they're joined at the hips," Draco brushed some residual slime from his robes as he thought angrily – and a bit jealously – about the Trio of psychos.

He gloated, thinking about his nemesis' rather limp love life. Scarface was probably lousy in bed anyway - what with his goofy smile, his verdant green eyes, his unruly mop of hair and his lanky body.

Thinking these rather uninspiring thoughts, Draco noticed something standing to attention; he hastily pictured McGonagall in a tutu dancing Swan Lake to calm a certain sudden ardor.

Cho reached up to brush a strand of hair off Draco's face, "I've always admired your hair; wish I was blonde."

Draco pretended to brush invisible lint off his robes while he mentally prepared a sarcastic reply worthy of Snape's godson, but then he reflected ruefully that Cho had indeed proven friendly when she could've finished him off. Besides, he had nothing against her, now that she had broken off with that loser Scarface.

"Your hair's nice enough as it is, Cho." Having recovered some strength, Draco stood up and looked around the compartment.

"And what brings you here?"

Cho reached up to the rack on the left and retrieved a box decorated with two interlaced Cs. She took out her wand and swished it, casting a shrinking charm. Then she pocketed the tiny box and turned to Draco, "Just came back for my souvenirs, papa is always moaning about how he can't go to Hogwarts and how he misses the school, so I brought him back some things – like a chunk of the Giant Squid."

Draco shivered, thinking of Cho casting spells at the poor Squid and making away with a _tentacle_ in the dead of night.

Observing Draco, the Ravenclaw Seeker commented wryly, "Don't worry, it's just a part of a tentacle that the Squid lost when he fought the Loch Ness monster" – she went to the door of the compartment and opened it – "it's his second cousin or something."

She went out the door and turned back once more, "And try not to be hexed again, Draco!"

Cho waved cheerily and walked away, closing the door softly behind her.

Snorting, Draco looked around and realized that his friends were absent. Probably the hapless duo had been unhexed by Theo Nott. The weedy-looking bloke resented Draco; Theo thought he was smarter than him and he should be the rightful Slytherin Prince.

After casting a hurried _Tempus,_ Draco realized he was running out of time. He went to his compartment to get his trunk. He used the same spell as Cho and shrunk it. He pocketed it absentmindedly. When he heard the door open he whirled around, wand at the ready.

It might be Cho coming back – or it might be a Gryffindor deciding to hex Draco once more for the fun of it.

Draco brandished his wand threateningly at… an old man. The old geezer had white hair and dark glasses.

The man looked down his nose at Draco, "Come on, lower your wand. There's no need for violence between us, let me assure you."

He entered the compartment and reclined lazily against the seat. He pointedly looked at his Muggle watch and said, "We still have a few minutes left, Dragon."

Draco glared at the man, still holding his wand with his left hand, "Don't call me that!"

The man snorted and replied, "Of course, I forgot – your father used to call you that before he went all cold on you."

Draco held the wand so tightly that his knuckles were white.

The man sat up and gently took Draco's wand out of his hand, as if he knew the Slytherin would not attack him. He twirled it softly around his fingers and sighed as if he was lost in reminiscence.

Then he presented it to Draco with a flourish, "Here you are, you might need it if the DA come back."

Draco grabbed his wand, scowling fiercely at the old geezer. He put it in the pocket of his robes, "Who are you, anyway?"

The old man offered his hand, "My name is Messier… Antares Messier."

Draco contemplated not shaking the man's hand, and that poignantly reminded him of the time in the Hogwarts Express when Potter refused his friendship.

The old man – Antares – lifted the rim of his glasses with the pinky finger of his right hand, and Draco noticed the silver ring the man wore, intriguingly shaped like a snake eating itself. Deciding that no self-righteous Gryffindor proud of his house would dare wear such a Slytherin symbol Draco smirked and shook the man's hand.

"I know you're angry with those awful Gryffindorks and the Golden Boy himself…" said the old man, sneering just like a Malfoy.

His next words shook Draco, "… but you have to make your peace with him."

"B... but he hexed me!" stammered Draco indignantly.

"Yes, I know, but you need him, Draco." Antares comfortably put an arm around Draco's shoulders, as if he had known him for a very long time, "He's vital for the well-being of those you love, Dragon."

The man motioned towards the wall of the carriage as if it were a screen upon which the future would be unraveled, "If you don't help him, Severus will die."

Draco was so shocked by the news that he didn't notice the old man's trembling arm.

"And your father – he will get the Dementor's Kiss."

Antares stood up and gesticulated wildly, "I know you're ok with him in Azkaban; but you really don't want him dead – you want Lucius to turn a new leaf, as it were."

The man took Draco's hands imploringly, "It depends on you, Dragon. It's in your hands. Befriend Harry."

Antares smirked evilly, "Besides, I happen to know that you like him a lot."

Draco blushed and wrenched his hands away from the lecherous old man.

He looked to the window of the compartment and espied the arse McMillan walking proudly on the platform. Draco stabbed his wand angrily in his direction and muttered, _'Impotentia maxima!_ ' He smirked when a translucent yellow beam shot towards the unsuspecting Hufflepuff.

"My, my! A bit vindictive today, aren't we?" said the old man, snorting.

"You would be too, if you'd been turned into a giant slug!" shot back Draco, glaring at Antares as the old man cocked an eyebrow.

"Anyway, to return to important matters - you could build a strong relationship with Harry; you could be his soulmate" - the old man leered insinuatingly – "now that sweet Cho is conveniently out of the way."

Draco stepped out of the compartment; he looked around to see if anyone was around and then reclined on the partition. He waved his arms wildly, "But Potter hates me, why else would he hex me so bad?"

Antares buffed his nails on the sleeves of his black robes and replied indifferently, "You tried to hex him first, you know."

Draco pointed accusingly at the old man.

"You want me to enter into a relationship with Potter – he'll just use me. He likes to pretend that he is the man in charge when he is not, when he lets himself be bossed around by his two minions and Dumbledore" – Draco took out his wand and nervously twirled it around his fingers – "by just about anyone not named Malfoy."

Antares smirked suavely, "You'll make him fall in love with you – and you'll find out he is nothing like he seems. Need I remind you that a Pureblood uses all the weapons at his disposal? Even those that appear to be underhanded?"

The old man shivered, "And you will save dear Sn…" he faltered for a moment and then recovered, "… Severus."

He stopped abruptly and appeared to meditate something, "But of course every man has a limit; if you find Harry to be too stubborn, too demanding – well, you know what to do. Try to be patient, though - it'll be worth it in the end."

"Please tell me how you know all this?" sneered Draco.

The man rubbed his ring nervously, "As a Pureblood you should know that a person uses all the tools at their disposal" – the man hesitated for a moment – "let's just say my sources are impeccable."

With that the man nodded curtly to Draco and turned around, walking briskly to the other end of the train - his robes billowing impressively behind him.

Draco heard someone calling him from the platform.

"Draco, Draco – I'm waiting for you," the Slytherin looked out the window and saw his mother. Narcissa was dressed in a red gown, which contrasted nicely with her silvery hair. She motioned imperiously towards the platform and pouted, "I've been waiting for ages, my Dragon."

He sighed and made his way out of the train, mentally thanking Cho for sparing his mother the sight of her only son converted into a slug.

He heard something uncanny when they were leaving the platform, a strange howling sound that made him shiver and hold on to his mother.

\--

Draco came back to the present when the professor arrived. Mr. Fibonachi entered the classroom almost timidly, his white hair quite unruly - his glasses askew. The Slytherin snorted, thinking that Harry would look just like that in perhaps sixty years.

The professor took out his wand and flourished it with verve, and magical equations appeared on the blackboard, "Last time we studied the interactions between the Pythagorean theorem and runes…"

Draco looked to his left and winked at Cho, but the witch was too engrossed in the lecture to pay much attention to his antics.

"… now we'll study this numerical sequence and how it can be used to formulate better spells."

 

 


	9. The trouble with elves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Discussion of past non-con (not Harry or Draco)

 

**April 1** **st** **, 1997**

Draco trotted upstairs, motioning for Pansy and Blaise to walk faster. They were a bit late to their DADA class - on the way down from the Charms classroom the stairs changed direction and left them on the wrong corridor.

He smirked when he saw Harry standing in front of the door, talking animatedly with Neville Longbottom. He greeted them and put an arm around Harry's shoulders. Longbottom didn't mind; he was a true Gryffindor and stayed loyal to his friends.

Neville continued talking about his herbology project. When Draco became bored with the Gryffindor's longwinded explanation, his gaze strayed to the classroom devoid of benches and the bare wooden floor, which gleamed as usual.

"…. and the fanged geranium bit Seamus. He was talking with Dean, and didn't pay attention." Neville grinned boyishly while Harry smirked. _Definitely something Harry should do more often,_ thought Draco.

Draco noticed Harry's beaming smile directed to the left and he turned around. Remus Lupin walked up to them and greeted them, tugging his striped tie. He motioned for the group of Slytherins and Gryffindors to enter. Draco jostled Harry, who was in front of him, and caused the Gryffindor to stumble into the classroom. Harry glared at him, promising retribution.

When Draco came into the brightly lit room, he noticed the usual desks and benches. Shaking his head – these house-elves were downright fast, when they were not obsessed like his former elf Dobby – he sat down next to Pansy and Harry.

The group talked animatedly, and the Slytherin wondered when Lupin would come in.

Draco looked up to the teacher's office when he heard a creaking sound; Lupin smiled as he walked down the marble stairs. Draco smirked, thinking that the teacher's werewolf reflexes really came in handy.

Remus sat on his desk, striking a graceful posture. Draco noticed that it looked tidy and neat. This DADA teacher was really efficient, not like Lockhart, or fake Moody.

"This book is Timely Trials, by Henry Grant Wells" - Remus brandished a worn book animatedly –"it describes the regulations governing time manipulations. This is a quite rare edition." He deposited the book softly on the table.

Hermione raised her hand and Remus pointed to her. "Yes, Hermione?"

"But we don't have this book, it wasn't in our list!"

"Don't worry; we are not going to use it. What the ministry publishes is rubbish anyway." Remus raised his wand and continued, "We are going to learn a practical spell that manipulates time."

Remus walked in the aisle between the Gryffindor and Slytherin benches, his face aglow with excitement. The full moon had come and gone a week ago, giving him time enough to recover. This was what he loved to do, teach practical things that would help his students when they faced the Death Eaters. He thanked Merlin that Albus was able to convince Minister Scrimgeour to allow him back in Hogwarts. Fortunately the meddling witch Dolores Umbridge had run away to Spain, intent on escaping any memory of her adventure with the Centaurs.

Remus looked around. "I need one volunteer."

When no one raised his hand, Hermione poked Ron, and the reluctant Gryffindor finally lifted his arm.

"Thank you, Ron. Please come here." Remus motioned for him to go to the front. Ron walked timidly past a table with a curiously winged skeleton.

Remus turned to the students. "I'm going to teach you a spell that slows time. It's very difficult to master because it requires a strong imagination, and a sense of music. It's very hard to perform."

He walked to the desk and reclined against it. "That's why the Death Eaters can't use it, or we would be in danger indeed.

"To cast the spell, you must think about a slow piece of music. Imagine how you feel when you listen to it," explained Remus, after looking at his watch, "Hold that thought, and then ..." the Marauder moved his wrist and the glissando notes of a piano were heard; Remus turned to Ron and deftly swished his wand, "... you do this."

" _Adagissimo,"_ said Remus slowly.

A bright light shot towards Ron. Remus moved to him and waved his hand in front of his face. Harry could see that Ron appeared to be very sluggish; he didn't follow the movement of the hand. He reacted very slowly when Remus went to the desk, grabbed the book and put it upon his head. The students laughed at the sight of the redhead moving as if he was under water. Remus took off the book and turned to his students, explaining, "The spell wears off in three minutes."

After Ron returned to his seat, wondering why people were snickering, Remus proceeded to pair them up. Every couple went to the front of the classroom and he corrected their pronunciation and wand movement.

He patted Harry's shoulders when the Gryffindor managed to cast the spell on a rather scared-looking Dean Thomas. At the end of the exercise, only Harry, Draco and Parvati Patil had managed to cast the spell correctly, to the annoyance of the rest of the students, especially Hermione.

"Great wandwork, Parvati," said Remus softly.

Remus motioned to Hermione, who had raised her hand. "Yes, Hermione?"

"Shouldn't we learn the Ministry regulations about time spells? If that book is so rare, how will we study them?"

Remus raised his arms pleadingly. "Don't worry, Hermione. I have it covered."

The Marauder walked to the door and waved his wand, unshrinking a box that Harry could swear wasn't there at the beginning of the class. Remus pointed his wand to the box and the books within flew out to the students.

Hermione raised her hand again, but Remus chose to ignore her this time. He wasn't very happy with the way she was treating Harry lately. She grimaced and squirmed on her seat, but the DADA teacher remained apparently oblivious.

Harry raised his hand, sporting a knowing smirk.

Remus nodded to him. "Yes, Harry?"

"I noticed that there was nothing near the door when we entered." Harry frowned, thinking about the Marauders playing tricks. "Did you cast that spell on us and slowed us down? I reckon we wouldn't see anything then."

Remus sat on the desk again and smiled proudly at Harry. "Actually, you raise a very good point, Harry. The box wasn't there at the beginning of the class. But I didn't cast any spell on you."

Remus' hand darted inside his robes, and he took out a silver chain from which a small globe dangled. Inside the globe there was an hourglass. He held the magical device aloft. "I used this Time Turner."

He looked at them intently. "You see, while you were distracted by an unmoving Ron, I used the device and put the box there myself." He turned to look at the window near the marble staircase. "And I also put the benches, since a certain house-elf didn't." Remus frowned, thinking about Dobby; the elf appeared to be more restless than usual.

Hermione put up her hand and Remus wearily nodded to her. "But the past can't be changed using Time Turners – you can only change things that are unobserved. Besides, you'll go mad if you see yourself in the past," said she, primly tugging her robes.

Harry bit back the urge to argue with his former friend and let her know that he'd used a Time Turner to change the past. That would surely shock her.

Remus held the hourglass in the air and rocked it gently. "Actually, you have a point, Hermione.

People believe that time can't be changed, that it is like a Muggle highway." He observed the puzzled looks of the Slytherins and added, "Or a river that flows from the mountains to the sea. We sail it in one direction until we arrive at the ocean."

Remus pointed to Parvati, whose hand had shot up in the air.

"But what about cyclic time?" She raised an eyebrow. "I heard my parents discussing that."

"Yes, some people believe time repeats itself, that we travel along the edge of an endless wheel." Remus looked intently at the Time Turner.

"There are many theories about time. Who knows which one is true?" Remus said, gently swaying the hourglass.

He nodded to Draco, who'd raised his hand.

"But what do you believe, Professor?"

Remus replied wistfully, "Believe me, Draco, if I'd been able to travel back in time, I would have saved a friend of mine."

He exchanged a sad look with Harry, thinking about the missing Marauder, Sirius.

Remus casually raised his hand and looked at his watch. "I think our time is up." He winked at Harry. "Albus is coming back today and I have to meet him later."

When Harry and Draco were at the door, they heard Remus say, "But remember, while it is true that rivers always flow straight to the sea" – the students turned back and saw him pocketing the Time Turner – "some of them split along the way and form deltas."

* * *

After kissing Draco goodbye, Harry dashed to his next class. It was increasingly easier to display these small tokens of affection, either ignoring catcalls or dealing with the more recalcitrant bashers.

He sauntered along the corridor, but he was startled when a sudden pop announced the arrival of Dobby.

The house-elf wore a shrunken magenta sweater and several woolly hats. He sighed melodramatically, rubbing his hands. "Dobby has news for master!"

"Don't call me that, Dobby! I'm not your master."

The elf bowed. "As sir wants."

He gazed furtively around and looked up to Harry. "Dobby has followed the evil pureblood boy as sir wanted-"

"I told you to follow Boot, not Draco!" shot back Harry.

The elf looked mournfully to the floor, his bat-like ears flopping disconsolately.

"But Dobby has seen the boy in the Room!" He motioned upwards and approached Harry.

"Dobby saw him uncover a strange cabinet" – the elf jumped up and down excitedly – "and he put a green apple inside!"

Harry shook his head, wondering about Draco and his obsession with apples. Perhaps he could get one for his hedgehog, which wasn't eating very well.

Harry walked away from Dobby to the left corridor, then he turned around and lifted the rim of his glasses with his right pinkie. He shrugged. "So what? It's probably a magical refrigerator or something."

Dobby gazed imploringly at Harry's retreating figure, but the Gryffindor didn't look back.

Pouting, he was about to disappear when another student approached him. Dobby frowned fiercely at the Slytherin tie of the huge boy.

"Well, I couldn't help but overhear that conversation," drawled Marcus Flint as he hastily looked around them to catch possible eavesdroppers, "and I share your worry about Malfoy."

Flint smirked to himself. Luckily his father insisted he should repeat certain courses – by direct order of the Dark Lord.

"Sir worries about that?" replied Dobby, gazing earnestly at his possible accomplice.

Flint reclined lazily against the wall. "I think Malfoy is up to no good, but no one will hear me out because," he grimaced in apparent sympathy, "I believe in elf equality."

"Sir believes that?" said Dobby, beaming.

Flint brushed invisible lint off his sleeve and remarked craftily, "Yeah, I do. I could help you to keep an eye on Malfoy, you know.

You have access to the Room of Requirement when it's in use, right?"

"Yes, Dobby does!" replied the elf proudly.

"Well, if you could put something inside just when Draco and Potter go there, that would help against evil Malfoy."

"Dobby will do that, sir!" The elf rubbed his hands gleefully.

* * *

In the late afternoon, Hermione and Ron made their way to the Headmaster's office. Hermione had finally listened to Ron's story about meeting himself. She suspected it was one of the twins masquerading as Ron. It would be just like them to pull such a prank.

They were using Harry's invisibility cloak. Hermione was holding the Marauders' Map, making sure that they didn't run into Harry. Thankfully he spent a lot of his time with Malfoy, Merlin knew where. He obviously was neglecting his homework, though he still managed to get better marks than she, thought Hermione grumpily.

She uttered the password Hagrid inadvertently blurted, and the duo made their way into the office.

Glancing around fearfully, Ron took out one of the memory vials his supposedly future self gave him. He approached the Pensieve and upended the vial, and watched the mercurial liquid sunk into the Pensieve. Looking at Hermione apprehensively, he submerged into the memory. Hermione followed him an instant later, and they found themselves transported into their future apartment.

Standing near the couch, they observed their disconsolate future selves and the visit from the strange old man, Antares. Up until the moment when Ron revealed what happened that night long ago.

Ron cringed when his future self reluctantly admitted he was raped by Avernius Flint. Now there was no doubt in his mind that it was himself he met that day.

After they got out of the Pensieve, Hermione tentatively put her arms around him. "Is it true? Why didn't you tell me, Ron?

I know it is awful, but I'll help you any way I can," whispered she into his ear, her strawberry scent calming Ron somewhat.

He replied in a trembling voice, "I hardly remember that, Hermione."

He shook his head. "There was this awful feeling. Sometimes I'm not sure what happened. But there was blood afterwards."

Hermione choked back a sob and tried to find a way to distract Ron. She stepped away from him and pointed to the Pensieve. "I know who that old man is. It must be Malfoy. Did you see when his glasses slipped? Did you notice his grey eyes?"

She took a memory vial from Ron's unresisting hand and continued, "Besides, that name, Antares…"

She emptied the vial into the Pensieve. "…I looked it up for the Astronomy homework last week. It's the name of a star in the Scorpio constellation. Just what a bigoted pureblood would use to disguise himself!" huffed Hermione.

She pointed to the Pensieve. "Let's see the other memories, all right?"

Ron nodded wearily and cringed when he bent down and submerged his face in the liquid, expecting more painful revelations.

The memory contained the moment when Ron and Hermione learned about Harry's disappearance.

In the final memory they saw Antares telling Ron to fetch Harry's body using this strange ring to whisk it out of Hogwarts. Hermione was too shaken to be angry when she heard the old man tell Ron to get her silver bracelet, the one Kreacher tried to keep from her.

After they came out, the two Gryffindors were crying. They held into each other, shaking.

"Harry died! And it's because of us!" moaned Ron.

Remembering Harry defending her against the other Gryffindors, Hermione mutely nodded. If it had not been for Ron supporting her, she would have crumbled to the floor.

"But that's in the future. Perhaps we can change that?" said Hermione between sobs.

Ron shook his head grimly. "You said the past can't be changed!"

Hermione wearily rubbed her face. "Maybe it can. Remus seemed to think so, anyway."

She looked at Ron and touched his face. "We have to keep our Harry alive, Ron. I just…" she cried out loud, "…I don't want him dead!"

Ron held her in his arms and vowed to himself to stop taunting Harry, to let him live as he wanted. He didn't want to see him dead.

They consoled each other and promised to support Harry. After a while, Hermione calmed down and started formulating theories, as usual.

She said wonderingly, "Why would the old man want that bracelet?"

She narrowed her eyes at Ron. "You should've told me you needed that. I would have given it to you willingly, you know."

Ron was about to retort that he didn't know anything about any bracelet, that it was his future self who knew, the git, when they heard the sound of the door opening. Hermione hastily grabbed the cloak and threw it over them, just before the Headmaster and Minerva McGonagall entered the room.

* * *

After he visited Hedwig in the Owlery, Harry was making his way to dinner. He saw Tonks up ahead in the corridor. Her hair was pink and she was whistling to herself when she saw the Gryffindor up ahead.

"Wotcher, Harry! You haven't seen Remus around, have you?"

"Well, I had class with him in the morning. I don't know where he is right now."

Harry frowned, remembering Hagrid's mention of a ring. Maybe he could get that information from Tonks, who was in the Order.

"Hey, Tonks? What do you know about a special magical ring?" said Harry, sporting a disarming grin.

Tonks fingered the edge of her robe, wondering if she should confide in Harry or not. Frankly, she hated the way Dumbledore and the Order kept things from Harry, when he was frequently the target of Voldemort's carefully constructed plots. She'd even heard mentions of a prophecy.

Really, if Harry was destined to vanquish Voldemort, they should at least provide him with the timely information he needed to do so.

Tonks leaned to Harry and whispered conspiratorially, "Dumbledore is looking for a certain ring. It is supposed to be a relic of some type."

She took out her wand and toyed with it, and then she cast an Imperturbable Charm around them.

"Dumbledore didn't tell the Order why it was so important, but while Remus and I were researching" - she looked earnestly at Harry – "for ways to vanquish You-Know-Who for good, we spent a week in India.

Wonderful place and food, though it was too spicy for Remus. You'd think that a werewolf would have a stronger stomach. But that's Remus for you," said she, chuckling.

Tonks whispered in Harry's ear, not trusting that the charm would hold determined eavesdroppers. "Remus and I wondered why it is that You-Know-Who came back from the dead when he supposedly was hit by his own _Avada Kedavra_."

Harry observed that Tonks' hair was getting darker, that wasn't a very good sign.

She looked around and continued, "Remus thinks that perhaps he…" Tonks gulped and tried to explain what they had surmised.

"… You know what Hindus think about reincarnation?" said Tonks tentatively.

When Harry nodded, she added, "Well, what if Voldemort is able to somehow reincarnate? There was a certain Veda text… What if he…"

She struggled to find the correct words. "What if he anchored himself to some object of this world using Dark Magic, so he's able to live again?"

Tonks hesitated, and when she looked at Harry's earnest face, she resolved to continue. "Remus and I, we believe that the Headmaster thinks that's the reason You-Know-Who survived, and Albus is looking for these anchor points.

But Remus…" Tonks' voice became softer as she rubbed her stomach. "He's so cautious and thoughtful. He'll be a great father, won't he?"

She returned to the issue at hand. "Anyway, Remus thinks that the object must be protected by powerful spells, so if anyone finds those things they must be very careful. You understand, don't you?"

Tonks shuddered. "I'm sure You-Know-Who has these objects. Maybe he's been alive for thousands of years, and that's why there was that drawing of him in Ayers Rock.

Perhaps he never remembers his past lives, he never learns and is stuck in the wheel, he'll never attain Nirvana." With that, Tonks swished her wand and ended the charm.

Harry recalled that Dumbledore was coming back today. Knowing the way the Headmaster stumbled into evil things without a plan – he sighed, thinking about fake Moody and the Goblet of Fire - Harry had an inkling that he would just go and get hurt by this ring.

He hurriedly said goodbye to Tonks and walked to the stairs to go to Dumbledore's office.

When he was several yards away, Tonks called back to him.

"By the way, Harry, we decided on a name. If it is a boy, Teddy." She shrugged carelessly, her hair a wild riot of fuchsia. "And if it is a girl, anything but my name."

Harry waved his hand and smiled before he turned back to the stairs.

He ran to the Headmaster's office and when he got there he muttered, "What was that password again." He smacked his head. "Nuggets? No, Snickers!"

The gargoyle moved aside and Harry sprinted up the moving spiral staircase. He arrived at the door and paused for a moment, hearing a discussion inside.

"…I'm telling you, Albus, my Gryffindors are running wild. First Potter and Malfoy become a couple." McGonagall sniffed disdainfully. "You might remember the last time a Slytherin and Gryffindor were together." She continued on a sombre note, "You might recall how that affected Severus."

Harry gasped, mentally gagging when he thought of his mother and the greasy git falling in love.

Harry listened carefully to the discussion inside the Headmaster's office, "… Granger is intent on transfiguring herself as a man and pursuing … forbidden pleasures."

Harry goggled, and he heard several muffled gasps coming from the room.

"I'm sure it is all a misunderstanding, Minerva," replied Dumbledore calmly.

Harry reclined against the door and heard Dumbledore say, "And now, Hagrid, the ring if you please."

Harry burst into the room and found the Headmaster seated behind his desk. He noticed Dumbledore's fuchsia robes were the same shade as Tonks' hair; he had a magenta hat and his beard was tied with a silver cord. Dumbledore was holding a gold ring with a black stone, inscribed with strange squiggly lines. The Headmaster was about to put it around his middle finger when Harry shouted, "Don't! Just don't do it, sir!"

Harry took out his wand from his pocket and waved it towards the ring. He levitated it away from Dumbledore's hand and onto the desk. He chanced to gaze into the Pensieve and noticed the reflection of the light upon its rippling surface. Perhaps Dumbledore was using it, before he was joined by McGonagall and Hagrid.

"What are yeh on about, Harry?" said Hagrid in a surprised tone.

"The Headmaster sent me to look for the ring to that Gaunt house-" Hagrid stopped and looked at Dumbledore, realizing he had blurted out some information the Headmaster probably wanted kept secret.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers and said calmly, "It is all right, Hagrid. I'm sure Harry has good reasons to act this way." The Headmaster sighed, thinking that now he would not get to use the Resurrection Stone to apologize to his mother and sister, after all the trouble they had finding it; luckily Hagrid was a half-giant and therefore unusually resistant to magic, he was able to resist the traps in that house.

"Sorry, sir. But I reckon that thing must be dangerous if it is from Voldemort," explained Harry.

Hagrid and McGonagall gasped when they heard that dreaded name spoken out loud, while Dumbledore nodded sadly to Harry.

The Headmaster looked at Harry inquiringly, lifting an eyebrow.

"And how do you know that, Harry?"

"Well, sir…" Harry fidgeted, thinking about a good explanation. He stammered, "R… read it on a book in the Restricted Section… it was charmed!"

McGonagall shook her head and mumbled under her breath, "Just what we need, another _unseemly_ book!"

After the head of Gryffindor House took the box that contained the ring, she went back to her office with a curt nod to Dumbledore. Hagrid stayed to talk with the Headmaster about his trip.

Harry made his excuses, thinking about the Room of Requirement, where he'd meet Draco.

* * *

Draco paced in front of the tapestry of the dancing troll the required three times, thinking about the room he wanted to meet Harry in.

When the door appeared, he hastily ducked inside when he espied a small shape materializing nearby. It was someone that Draco had noticed stalking him.

He closed the door, remembering the melodramatic house-elf. He knew Dobby's obsessed ways, having lived with him for several years. It was a chore living with two primadonnas - his father and Dobby.

When he was five years old, Draco made the mistake of telling Dobby about Harry Potter. Draco had been a bit obsessed with the Boy-Who-Lived in his younger days, and Dobby shared that obsession, unfortunately.

After Harry refused his friendship and Draco became his enemy, Dobby chose Harry. Naturally. The elf didn't look kindly upon Draco's schemes regarding Harry, to put it mildly.

Draco took out his tie and put it on the antique chair that was next to the bed. He shook his head. There was something a bit odd about the bedroom tonight, it seemed a little different.

He sat on the bed, wondering if Severus would call him tonight. Voldemort had not called upon his spies for some time and it was worrisome. Maybe the Dark Lord was beginning to distrust them? That could prove to be deadly.

Last time they'd been to his hideaway, Voldemort had been gloating. He'd spoken in Parseltongue to his loathsome snake. Draco couldn't stand the sibilant sounds of that language; it made him think of dank, dead corridors. His father loved it when Voldemort spoke that language, and that made Draco detest it even more.

He looked up when a popping sound indicated the arrival of a house-elf.

To Draco's dismay, Dobby appeared next to the door. He was wearing some Muggle clothes and several woolly hats.

The elf rubbed his hands maniacally. "Dobby will stop your schemes against Harry Potter!"

Dobby grinned maliciously. "Dobby heard… you want to pound poor Harry Potter into the mattress!" The small elf advanced menacingly on Draco, who was wondering from whom the maniacal elf heard that.

The elf snapped his fingers; he pointed upwards and a big cauldron appeared floating in midair. "Dobby will stop that!"

Draco was too stunned to react. He looked to the door when he heard another popping sound.

A wrinkled house-elf appeared. He had white tufts growing out of his floppy ears and wore an old rag around his hips.

"… Kreacher will save the pureblood who should be his master from this scum." Kreacher glared at Dobby, who turned and scowled fiercely at the newcomer.

The two elves approached each other like miniature Sumo wrestlers. They started to fight. Soon they were rolling on the floor, wrestling intently. The cauldron fell to the ground with a crashing sound and viscous liquid spilled onto the marble floor.

Draco reclined against the bed, enjoying the entertainment. He was used to Dobby and his antics; the elf usually fought with other Malfoy elves. Then Draco sat up with a start, realising that if Dobby won, he would probably conjure another cauldron. He shook his head ruefully and took out his wand. Thinking about the final movement of Mahler's Ninth, he intoned, _"Adagissimo."_

When the two elves stopped moving, he swished his wand at Dobby and bound him.

Draco eyed the old elf who wore the rags; he seemed a bit familiar to him. His champion - apparently called Kreacher - looked a bit tired; so walking gingerly around the spilled liquid, Draco carefully put the old elf upon the chair.

Sighing, he made his way to the door. Dobby had ruined the mood for his rendezvous with Harry. He'd send his boyfriend a note postponing the meeting.

Draco walked out the door. He didn't hear a gasp coming from inside the room. A little bit later, the chair and Kreacher disappeared.


	10. The chairman

After Draco descended the marble stairs he chanced to look at the door of the bathroom where he and Harry had duelled. It brought a smile to his lips; they'd fought everywhere in the castle, it seemed. He sighed, thinking that there were still six floors to go to get to the Dungeons.

The light of the sconces glowed warmly; it provided a counterpoint to the cool night. Draco shivered and pulled his robes tighter. When he turned the corner, he saw the smiling face of Harry. Leering, Draco thought that maybe the night would not go to waste after all. It'd been a while since he and Harry had been intimate.

He kissed Harry's pouty lips and explained, "I was going to send you a message. Dobby" -Draco glared at Harry – "your crazed _fan-elf_?He tried to hit me with a cauldron."

Draco grabbed Harry's shoulders and kissed him again, "Only the intervention of an old elf – I think his name is Kreacher – prevented that."

Harry looked away guiltily. He shouldn't have called for Dobby to follow Terry Boot. The fanatical house-elf apparently was obsessed with his Dragon – and not in the way Harry was. On the other hand, this might work in his favour - Draco was primed for some action, just like Harry. It had been a while since he and Draco had sex. Harry tried not to think about what McGonagall said; frankly the thought of Hermione transfiguring herself into a man and getting down and dirty with Ron was really awful.

Draco pinned Harry against the stone wall and bit his neck. Harry groaned, looking in both sides of the corridor. It was dark and cold; the students were surely in their dormitories -the teachers probably reading boring books. The frames near them were empty. _I reckon the portraits are having a sleepover,_ thought Harry.

And if someone happened to come across them - Harry could cast a wandless spell and extinguish the sconces. While pursuing his research about new positions for their lovemaking, Harry had stumbled upon an ancient book that had scores of nifty wandless spells. Now he understood more Hermione's passion for researching.

Looking at Draco's darkened eyes – his pupils dilated by lust – Harry knew this was the perfect moment for action. The feel of Draco's lean body pressing against his; the smell of Draco's musky cologne – it all contributed to the heat pooling in his veins. Eyes darkened with need, he looked at Draco and whispered, "Come on, fuck me!"

Draco responded by lifting Harry's right leg and placing it around his hip. The Gryffindor got the hint and eagerly jumped on Draco – their heights made this easy to do. Draco staggered backwards. Smirking at Harry, he drawled, "Hey, lay off the treacle tarts, will you?"

Harry growled and bit Draco's neck, effectively shutting up his snarky boyfriend, who let out a deep groan.

Draco moved forward so that part of Harry's weight was supported by the stone wall. _Harry's been sneaking into the kitchen. He could surely use eating more green apples,_ thought Draco maliciously.

Harry quickly divested himself of his clothes using a wandless spell. He shivered and wrapped himself tighter around Draco, seeking the warmth of his body against the cold night. Harry's cock started leaking. Draco's immaculate clothes would get stains caused by Harry's arousal. _My Dragon will not like that_ , thought Harry, smirking evilly.

His right hand slipped frantically past Draco's belt and boxers, finally wrapping itself around Draco's girth. Harry smiled against Draco's neck as he realized his Dragon was also leaking copiously. Harry tried to get it out of the Slytherin's trousers – but he stopped when Draco complained. "Ouch – you're scratching my bits!"

Draco held Harry's left buttock with his right hand as he fished his wand out of his robes. He waved it and freed his leaking cock; with another swish he cast a lubrication charm inside Harry. Draco carelessly dropped his wand, and then he bit Harry's neck as his index finger entered the Gryffindor.

Harry groaned heatedly as Draco added his middle finger and rubbed his insides deliciously. Draco lifted up Harry's hips and he promised darkly, "I'm going to nail you to the wall!"

Harry moaned wantonly; his cock twitching when Draco added, "And I'm going to pound you into next week!"

His back braced against the rough stone wall and his legs wrapped around Draco's waist, Harry felt the roughness of Draco's robes against his legs. He whimpered – imagining how debauched they must look.

Harry felt Draco's slick cock pressing against his inner thigh and he prepared for the invasion he earnestly desired, when…

"Stop!" cried a shrill voice.

Draco was flung from Harry and the Gryffindor slid to the floor. Harry yelped, the rough stone wall stopped his fall, but it also scratched his back fiercely.

"Dobby will not let you do your evil deed!" Harry lifted his glasses with his right hand and looked with incredulity at the shouting figure of Dobby. Harry rolled his eyes - just what they needed, homophobic Dobby!

Dobby advanced threateningly on the fallen Draco. Harry sprung up and rushed to help his downed boyfriend; his arousal had ebbed completely, and the cold of the floor penetrated the soles of his feet.

"What do you mean, Dobbs?" Draco said, lifting an eyebrow. He was propped on his elbows next to the door of the bathroom. A grimace of pain spread across his fine features, and he gingerly rubbed his left shoulder where he'd hit the wall after the crazy elf flung him aside – apparently Dobby liked to magically manhandle Malfoys.

"Don't call me that!" Dobby violently took off his woollen hats and threw them at Draco. "Dobby heard your evil plans!"

The elf looking accusingly at Harry and then his protruding eyes shifted to Draco. He appeared to be ready to snap his fingers. Harry took Dobby's hand and stopped him - he didn't want his lover to be sent Merlin knew where. Harry shivered; he was suddenly very cold without clothes and the warmth of Draco – but defending his boyfriend came first.

"What do you mean, Dobby?" asked Harry, moving his free hand to cover his privates from Dobby's censorious gaze.

The elf pointed a bony finger in Draco's direction.

"The evil pureblood intended to kill Harry Potter. He wanted to nail poor Harry Potter" - Dobby's bulging eyes shifted from Draco to Harry – "inside the wall. Dobby heard it with his own ears."

Harry raised his arms exasperatedly, "It's not what you think, Dobby!"

Dobby pointed to the wall where the two Seekers had been about to engage in sexual activities. "The Malfoy boy wanted to use a Dark Spell and send Harry Potter to the future!"

Harry frowned, not getting Dobby's words until he remembered Draco promising him 'to pound him into next week.' His cock twitched a little and Harry hastened to cover it with his left hand.

"That's not true, Dobby! Draco just wanted to please me!" said Harry.

"By nailing sir into the wall for a week?" said Dobby disbelievingly. The elf frowned fiercely at Draco and then at the wall. Harry followed his gaze and sighed when he thought longingly about the pounding he was obviously not getting tonight.

If Harry and Draco thought that things were bad - they were about to get worse.

A man snorted and approached them, his black robes hardly visible in the night. The contrast between his pale face and dark hair and robes identified him instantly as the figure both boys dreaded to see in their current condition. Snape's billowing robes seemed as menacing as the scowl on his face.

Severus looked sharply at them.

"Just what in Merlin's name is going on?" said Snape, scowling at Harry and the elf. He took in Harry's nakedness with a look of utter revulsion, noting with interest the blood dripping off Harry's back. On top of their tryst, the lot appeared to be into heavy stuff. Snape looked incredulously at his godson.

"I knew about your" - Severus sniffed as if he smelt a potion gone wrong – "liaison with Potter. But I didn't expect you to engage in a threesome with a house-elf, Draco!"

Three pair of eyeballs swivelled towards the sarcastic – and wrong – Potions Master, as identical gasps escaped from the wizards and the diminutive elf.

"It's n... not what you think, Severus!" stuttered Draco, looking pleadingly at his godfather.

"Indeed," the Potions Master scowled, pointing his hand to Harry's flaccid cock. The Gryffindor blushed and hastened to cover his groin with his hands.

"Potter is naked, you and" - he pointed his finger accusingly at a scowling Dobby – "the elf are flushed. Just what do you expect me to think, Draco?"

Severus muttered under his breath, "Minerva is right! The Gryffindors are out of control. They've corrupted Draco – and even the house-elves!"

Clutching his left arm gingerly, Severus averted his gaze from the naked Gryffindor. He took out his wand and swished it in Harry's direction, muttering a variation of the spell which he employed to write on the blackboard. A spell he'd invented and carefully preserved in his trusty Potions book – the book which had suddenly disappeared. Harry's clothes swiftly covered him.

Severus looked at Harry again. Carefully directing his hand towards the flushed Gryffindor, he swished his wand and muttered softly, _'Vulnera sanentur.'_

Harry sighed when he felt the scratches caused by the wall – which had been bleeding profusely – close and heal.

"Potter, detention tomorrow at 8!" barked Severus, shaking his head.

Harry's gasp caused a flicker of a smile in the dour teacher's face.

Draco smirked - a look of triumph crossing his face - until Severus turned to him. "Come with me, Draco! There are some cauldrons that need cleaning, and you could use some time to dress with proper decorum!" Severus looked pointedly at Draco's crotch, and the Slytherin blushed and tucked his limp cock into his trousers, glaring at Dobby all the way.

The oblivious elf grinned wickedly - he'd thwarted the evil pureblood's designs on poor Harry Potter after all - until Severus turned to him. "And you, elf! I'll have some choice words with the Headmaster. You might get expelled from Hogwarts!"

Dobby whined and pleaded, but Severus turned his back on them and motioned for Draco to accompany him.

"I wonder who's the bottom here," muttered Severus darkly. He turned back and smirked when he saw their outraged faces. Of course he didn't believe they were a threesome – but it was a very satisfying opportunity to annoy Potter - and his smug godson.

Dobby pouted and disappeared with a loud popping sound. Harry glared at the space formerly occupied by the troublesome elf, and his gaze shifted to the forlorn woollen hats on the floor – served Dobby well for being such a spoilsport. He'd been tempted to tell Dobby that being a house-elf he could not be expelled from Hogwarts, but perhaps Dobby would listen to Snape and stop his crazy stalking of poor Draco.

* * *

Draco descended the stairs behind Severus, following the bright light pouring from the tip of his godfather's wand. Squinting at the glow cast by the _Lumos_ spell, he tried to catch up with the Potions Master's hurried pace. He looked admiringly at the way Severus' robes billowed behind him, and he measured his steps so his feet would not step on them – Severus was riled enough as it was.

Draco tried to explain, "Really, Severus, there's no three…"

"Spare me the details of your sexual life, Draco," shot back Snape. They passed through the second floor in silence.

When they reached the Dungeons, Draco heaved a sigh of relief. He followed the Potions Master's regal strides until they passed the Potions classroom.

Draco arched an eyebrow, but followed his godfather silently.

"I don't care what you, Potter and the elf get up to" - Severus muttered the password to his private quarters and motioned for Draco to go ahead – "but we are needed elsewhere."

Draco whispered, "You mean…"

Severus lifted an eyebrow, and rubbed his left forearm. "Exactly, the Dark Lord has called us to his hideaway."

* * *

In his redoubt in Slytherin Castle, Voldemort sat upon his golden throne, surveying his domain. Several of his most trusted Death Eaters were in attendance, forming a circle around the space where Voldemort held court. Several clutched their masks in their hands, among them Alecto Carrow. The stocky witch had her black hair tied in a severe bun; she elbowed Amycus, her squat brother, so he would pay more attention to the Dark Lord. The mad werewolf, Fenrir Greyback, was absent - as was Voldemort's favourite, Bellatrix Lestrange.

The lights cast by the sconces cast crazed shadows on the group of assembled assassins. The smell of rotten flesh hung heavy on the air. The dank and cold atmosphere was somewhat warmed by a fire near the opposite wall of the ample hall, upon which a small dragon roasted.

Voldemort steepled his fingers and smirked – a gesture that oozed evil, grotesque as it was on his noseless visage – when Rabastan Lestrange entered the hall, tugging a wrinkled and grizzled house-elf by the magical chains wrapped around the elf's middle. Rabastan wore a black robe, and in his other hand he held the Death Eater mask. His blue eyes sparkled madly and his short hair was a bit mussed, as if he had wrestled with the small elf.

The house-elf vainly tried to disappear, but the chain bound his powers and he was unable to escape. His rheumy blue eyes peered around, and he grimaced in disgust when he saw the assembled dark shadows.

".. bloody group of fools parading around…" muttered the old creature under his breath, low enough that the assembled dark wizards did not hear him.

A portly man skulked behind them, bowing obsequiously to the assembled Death Eaters. He wore a smart jacket with leather patches on the elbows; a bow tie was wrapped neatly around his neck. His shiny pate contrasted sharply with the dark figures near him, especially with the spectral figure of their leader, but the man appeared not to mind.

The three stopped in front of Voldemort. The Dark Lord looked disdainfully at the small figure of the house-elf. He lazily swished his wand and threw a _Crucio_ at him, powered by the hate he felt for everything that was different from him.

Kreacher tried vainly to muffle his screams, but the pain was too great and he finally shouted hoarsely, writhing on the floor.

Voldemort lifted the _Crucio_ , smirking with satisfaction at the prostrate figure of the elf.

He scowled darkly at the fat man – now trying to hide behind Rabastan - who cowered under the scrutiny of the Dark Lord.

"What's the meaning of this, Horace? I asked you to bring Potter, not this scum!"

The Dark Lord threw another _Crucio_ at the elf. The Death Eaters, used to the screams of Voldemort's victims, easily dismissed the wizened elf's screams and followed intently their master's words.

Horace Slughorn bowed and said, "Excuse me, my Lord, but Potter didn't appear. It was just the Malfoy boy and-" he searched for an excuse, any excuse, to appease the Dark Lord.

His agile mind found one, "I heard that you lost an important relic. I think someone found it in Black House, and I recognised this house-elf"- Slughorn bowed and averted his eyes from the Dark Lord, mindful of his irascible temper - "from the time I was teaching one of my best students."

Slughorn continued fibbing; in reality he hadn't paid much attention to Regulus Black because he had much bigger fish to fry fawning over the important Gryffindor students - like Lily Evans.

"He was a pureblood, Regulus Black was." Slughorn pointed to the prostrate figure of Kreacher, "And that was his house-elf. Heard a silly girl, Marietta, talk about a certain relic she saw, and she mentioned that Hermione Granger got it from Black House."

Slughorn bowed and stepped past Rabastan. He contemplated the Dark Lord with a proud gleam in his eyes. He loved influencing successful and powerful students – and what better crowning jewel in his collection than the most powerful sorcerer of all time?

Slughorn had planted his seed very carefully, reaching the prize when the promising, young Tom Riddle casually asked him about Horcruxes. Acting like any good Slytherin, he carefully nurtured Tom's mind, whilst pretending to the world that he was an innocent teacher – something that the old fool Dumbledore believed completely.

Slughorn was ready to act as Voldemort's spy within Hogwarts, but he had been thwarted by that bloody American who mistook him for a real armchair. The woman cast a weird spell on an enraged calico cat that was sitting on Slughorn – _Adagissimo_ or something like that – which lasted much longer because he was a chair. When he came to, the woman had already imported him into New England. Fortunately Slughorn had returned to Britain at last. He managed to pass the impregnable wards of Hogwarts using a loophole – the wards were useless against inanimate objects, as was amply demonstrated when Barty Crouch Jr. smuggled the Portkey that contributed to his Lord's return. Slughorn passed through the wards transformed into an antique chair.

Following his instructions, Marcus Flint – a boy he definitely would not be adding to his collection – had convinced Dobby. The gullible house-elf had smuggled him into the Room of Requirement. Slughorn was ready to snatch Potter and bring him to Voldemort, but unfortunately a concatenation of unforeseen events had disrupted his plans. A combination of the potion contained within the cauldron of the crazed elf and Kreacher's magic had activated the Portkey he carried and transported them into the Dark Lord's redoubt. So he had to persuade Voldemort that was his plan all along.

Voldemort turned to Kreacher, "Where's the relic, scum? Answer me!"

Kreacher turned his rheumy blue eyes to Voldemort, "Kreacher does not know."

After Voldemort threw another _Crucio_ at him, Kreacher had a few minutes of peace. He'd be damned if he told this crazy noseless half-blood that the know-it-all girl had taken the relic. Kreacher sighed brokenly, remembering his beloved master Regulus and the brutal death he suffered when he snatched the heavy locket in that cave, ultimately dying at the hands of the Inferi.

Kreacher wished that his master had survived the ordeal in that cave, but poor master Regulus died a cruel death indeed.

Kreacher recognized the predatory gleam in that man's eyes - Mundungus Fletcher was the name of that scum - so in order to keep the locket safe, he used elf magic and transfigured it into a silver bracelet, which he kept hidden near the Black tapestry. It was all for nought, because the silly girl – the know-it-all Harry Potter associated with – took it from there. Kreacher fought in vain for the bracelet, but the girl would not listen to him - though she spouted words about elf equality.

Kreacher was wrenched from his recollections when Voldemort threw another _Crucio_ at him. The old elf writhed on the floor, wishing that someone would put his dead body in his beloved master Regulus' abode, Black House.

The Dark Lord stood up from his throne and approached Kreacher, "Who has the relic, silly thing?"

"Kreacher does not know," answered the elf, weakening by the minute. He mouthed the words, _'And Kreacher would not tell the noseless half-blood this.'_

Voldemort raised his wand and was about to cast another curse, when the sounds of the door opening distracted him. He frowned at the door, his inexistent lips tugging upwards in a weak imitation of a smile when he saw Severus and Draco walking towards him.

They bowed to the Dark Lord and took their place among the circle of Death Eaters. Draco discreetly walked until he was as far from the Dark Lord as he could get without being conspicuous.

Voldemort nodded curtly to Snape, "Severus."

His gaze passed through Draco, and the Slytherin was thankful that he was not the centre of the Dark Lord's attention.

Draco frowned when he saw the prostrate figure of a wizened old elf. Recognising his defender, he started thinking about ways to deflect the ire the Dark Lord apparently directed toward Kreacher.

Draco's nose twitched when he smelled rotten flesh. He looked towards the fire on the opposite wall of the hall, shivering when he recognized the carcass of a small dragon.

Sighing inwardly, he espied the Carrows near Severus, the woman – Amycus or Alecto, he could never be sure of her name - emitted a wheezy giggle and tugged her brother's arm, pointing to the poor house-elf.

Draco nodded to Rabastan Lestrange and frowned when he observed the fat man, meticulously dressed, next to Lestrange and the house-elf.

The Dark Lord turned to Slughorn, "What did you learn at Hogwarts, Horace?"

Voldemort directed a malevolent gaze towards Draco, "Has Malfoy been useful, or is he a complete failure like his father?"

Slughorn looked shiftily towards Draco, avoiding Snape's gaze. He bowed to the Dark Lord.

"My Lord, far be from me to question the effectiveness of your spy, but Malfoy and Potter appear to be very close" - Slughorn looked disdainfully at Draco - "and Malfoy does not seem to work hard enough to bring about Potter's downfall."

Realising this was Horace Slughorn, Draco carefully schooled his features. What he really wanted to do was take out his wand and curse this neatly dressed Death Eater poseur who dared call himself a Slytherin.

Draco was distracted by a rustling sound; when he turned to the door he saw the loathsome snake, Nagini. The huge reptile slithered towards the Dark Lord. When she was near Kreacher, she paused. The snake coiled herself around the old elf and Draco shivered when he heard her hissing sounds.

Voldemort cocked his head, listening intently. When she stopped hissing, he chuckled.

"You will have your meal later, my dear." Voldemort motioned towards Kreacher, and Draco shivered, realising Voldemort intended to feed the house-elf to the loathsome creature.

The Dark Lord looked affectionately at his snake and spoke Parseltongue. Draco mentally groaned when he heard the dreadful, incomprehensible sounds of the language he hated with a passion. Its reptilian, cold sounds – devoid of humanity – assaulted his ears, instead of the warmth and nuance that imbued any human tongue.

After he finished with the snake, Voldemort motioned imperiously to Draco. "Come here, Malfoy!"

Nagini reluctantly uncoiled herself from the trembling Kreacher and slithered closer to the Dark Lord, uncomfortably near Draco.

Draco approached the Dark Lord – outwardly he appeared to be trembling – inwardly he was preparing to weather the storm of Voldemort's onslaught. The Dark Lord's gleaming skull shined in the general gloom of the hall. Draco noticed that Voldemort's light eyes appeared grey in this light. Shaking his head - he could've sworn that the Dark Lord's eyes were red last time he saw him - he returned to the matter at hand. Despite Draco's joking manner when he referred to the Dark Lord, he was afraid of Voldemort, as any sane wizard would be. He knew what the Dark Lord's next move would be.

Draco mentally thanked his crazy aunt Bellatrix for her _Occlumency_ lessons. It wasn't only compartmentalising his emotions and memories, for Voldemort would not be satisfied if he faced a mental brick wall. The trick lay in choosing the memories used to evade the Dark Lord's mental probe; it was about using his own memories, carefully arrayed beforehand in their corresponding mental files. The deception consisted in arranging them carefully, so they gave the correct impression. It was somewhat akin to riding a broom high above the clouds; using the winds – letting them guide the broom, only giving the slightest nudge now and then. It was like preparing a potion, carefully selecting the ingredients. Weighing them carefully, adding them at the appropriate time – creating something completely different from the raw materials, yet reflecting their properties.

And Draco excelled at both flying and potions.

So he skated among his recollections, choosing the appropriate ones – arranging them in the correct order. He vividly recalled his anger at Harry when he didn't let him top and instead used him as his sexual toy. He remembered his ire at Dumbledore when he invariably took Harry's side in everything. Draco used his memories of Weasley and Granger taunting him while Potter stood aside and seemingly cheered them – his humiliation served him well at this point. Draco brought to his mind the bright memories of his childhood – when he still believed in the ideals espoused by his father. The times when he yearned to become the strong pureblood that his father seemed to be were uppermost in his mind at this moment. All other thoughts he shut away in their corresponding mental cabinets.

Draco took all these recollections – the emotions fuelling them - and artfully weaved them into a web of deception. It was so finely wrought that it would require someone with exceptional intelligence _and_ empathy to unravel it – and the Dark Lord definitely lacked the latter quality.

Looking deeply into Draco's grey eyes, Voldemort elegantly swished his wand. This effect was ruined, in Draco's mind, by his unnaturally thin fingers and black nails - which gave his hands the look of a vulture's claws.

" _Legilimens!"_ rasped the Dark Lord.

Draco added the final touch using a supremely Slytherin tactic. He vividly recalled this night – when he was attacked by Dobby and defended by Kreacher. He left the memory exactly as it was, choosing to blur the single word, 'mattress.' Surely the Dark Lord, propelled by his curiosity and hate of any being that did not conform to his racist standards, would choose to follow this particular memory. Finding it true, he would more readily accept the results of his probe.

Facing the Dark Lord's utterly inhuman face, he let Voldemort completely into the memories he had carefully arranged.

With the corner of his eyes, Draco saw Severus' knuckles were white around his wand. He prayed that he would not rush to his aid and reveal his status as Dumbledore's spy. Draco knew that his godfather had a special Portkey, tuned to take him to Prince Manor – which Severus' awful father had renamed Snape Manor.

After half a minute, Voldemort stopped his probe.

His face distorted in a grimace, the Dark Lord rasped. "Well done, Malfoy. Though it pains me to use a pureblood" – Voldemort brushed his black robe disgustedly – "in such a demeaning way, you have proved a bit more useful than your father."

Draco mentally rolled his eyes – at least the dark and the light sides were united in their homophobia.

The Dark Lord turned his dreadful face towards Horace Slughorn. Elegantly waving his wand, he cast _Crucio_ at him.

After a minute watching Slughorn writhing on the floor and hearing his pained screams, Voldemort stopped the curse. The Dark Lord rasped, "You're wrong, Horace!"

Voldemort turned his inhuman eyes on Draco, "Malfoy is doing his part - which is more than I can say for you!"

He motioned to the door, "Go to the dungeons and prepare some potions. Make yourself useful for once!"

Voldemort crossed his thin arms in front of his chest, "I won't do more to you in memory of the information you gave me."

Slughorn hastened to escape the hall of Slytherin Castle. Turning his head one last time, he cast a fearful glance in the direction of the Dark Lord.

Draco sighed with relief – but that feeling proved to be short lived. Dark clouds materialized near the door, swirling with a maniacal movement. Draco's blond locks were ruffled by the wind caused by the appearance of several people.

The Slytherin fought to keep his composure when he recognised the wild black locks of his aunt Bellatrix. Her features, ravaged by her stay in Azkaban, retained a part of their beauty. Her eyes gleamed with sadistic glee as he walked beside a tall Death Eater. The man next to her took off his white mask and Draco recognised his uncle Rodolphus Lestrange - his grey eyes alight with the same sadistic passion as his wife. After he bowed deeply to the Dark Lord, Rodolphus nodded curtly to his nephew.

"Did you succeed, Bella?" said Voldemort, taking two steps towards his favourite.

"Yes, my Lord, I did." Her black curls in disarray, Bellatrix sauntered and motioned to her husband.

Draco shivered, realising that probably they would need Severus' Portkey after all; because he recognised the two tall, battered shapes that stepped into the pool of light cast by the sconces. Their shocks of ginger hair would be recognisable everywhere.

It would seem that the Lestranges had managed to capture the Weasley twins.

Fred, or perhaps George, was grabbing his left ear, there was blood trickling down his face and dripping into the dirty stone floor.

On the far side of the twins walked Fenrir Greyback. His matted hair, partly covering his face, appeared dirtier than usual in the dim light. His smirking lips failed to cover his pointed, brown teeth. He looked at the twins with a covetous gleam in his animalistic eyes.

Draco's stomach sank when he saw the blond hair of the slim figure that next stepped into the pool of light - because it was his mother, Narcissa Malfoy. She was unobtrusively passing a white handkerchief to the bleeding twin.

 

 


	11. The Unbreakable Vow, part 1

 

After leaving Draco, Harry made his way to Gryffindor Tower, muttering about unruly house-elves. He mumbled the password to the Fat Lady - who had gotten a horned helmet from another portrait and was trying to sing like a Valkyrie - and entered the common room. He went to his dormitory and lay down on his bed, fisting the duvet. He was too worked up to undress just yet.

Unbeknownst to Harry - the noise was masked by Neville's snores - Dobby popped in just at that moment. His green ears drooping, Dobby stood in the dark and fingered his frayed Gryffindor pillowcase whilst he contemplated how to approach his beloved master Harry.

Harry punched his pillow as if it was Voldemort's slimy face and lay his head upon it – his tousled hair strewn every which way - crossing his arms behind his head. He was startled when someone yanked the curtains. The visitor was lighted by the ball of light emanating from his wand. When Harry realised who it was, he glared at his former friend Ron.

"Harry, how are you, mate?" Ron gingerly sat down on Harry's bed, scooting away a bit when he saw Harry's ferocious glare directed at him.

"What do you want, Ron? Come to taunt me some more?"

"I'm sorry, mate!" Ron touched Harry's shoulders and Harry moved backwards on his bed, breaking the unwelcome contact. "I'm very sorry." Ron scrunched up his face and Harry wondered for a moment if he was going to break in tears, the traitor.

Harry opened his mouth to let Ron know what he thought of him, but Ron raised his left hand. "I got carried away, mate. Like in Fourth Year when I thought you entered your name in the Goblet."

Ron gazed earnestly at Harry, his face shining with the reflected light from the _Lumos_ spell. "Fred and George are right, you know?"

Harry could hear Neville mumbling something about a Devil's Snare in his sleep. Apparently his friend was having a nightmare. He looked towards Neville's bed, but it was too dark to see anything.

"It's not of my business who you're with, even if it is Malfoy," said Ron slowly. In the darkness beside Seamus' bed, Dobby perked up his ears when he heard the name of his evil former master Malfoy come up.

Harry gazed incredulously at Ron, and he was too caught up in this news to notice the gasp coming from Seamus' bed.

"I guess he really turned up a new leaf. In any case, I have to trust you know what you're doing." Ron's hand was tired from holding his wand, and he put it on the duvet.

The light cast stark shadows on Ron. Harry studied intently his face, looking for any signs of deceit – and found none. Their long years together had taught him how to read the redhead, and Harry reluctantly concluded that Ron was being honest.

"I guess Malfoy loves you" - Ron grimaced disgustedly for a second and then essayed a weak smile - "I've seen how he looks at you, mate. It's just... perhaps I have to consider things."

Dobby crossed his thin arms and frowned. If Harry Potter's Wheezy was for the Malfoy boy – and Dobby knew Wheezy detested Malfoy with a passion – then perhaps the Slytherin boy was really good after all. Dobby scratched his head, noticing that his woollen hats had disappeared.

Harry eyed Ron distrustfully. How could he forget the things Ron had said to him in the future, and especially how he and Hermione had abandoned him? But on the other hand, he missed Ron. He missed the times when they got in trouble together; their easy camaraderie when they played their chess games – and that brought to his mind the moment when Ron sacrificed himself in that giant chess game so Harry could get to the Philosopher's Stone.

Harry was distracted by Neville's muffled screams. "Gerroff me!" mumbled Neville as he wrestled with the blankets.

Deciding to give Ron the benefit of the doubt, for the moment anyway, Harry said, "I'll think it over, Ron."

Harry did miss Ron, but he needed time to process this new development. Dobby interrupting him and Draco hadn't improved his temper. He noticed a strange rustling sound coming from Seamus' direction. _Probably the wanker is dreaming about Dean_ , thought Harry irritatedly.

"Just" - Harry looked sharply at the redhead - "give me time."

Neville sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. Yawning, he said, "Had the weirdest dream."

Harry turned towards Neville's bed, "What was it all about?"

"Dreamt that I was trapped in a Devil's Snare that turned out to be Snape." Harry could hear the sound of Neville sitting up and rummaging in his trunk. "He was wearing my grandma's hat and he kept me trapped. It was awful."

Harry and Ron groaned in sympathy.

Ron briefly touched Harry's shoulder and then stood up. "I'll have to get used to Malfoy and you together, and you being" - Ron extinguished his light and the next words had a fateful sound, coming out of the dark - "you know, gay. But I'll do it for you, mate."

Ron ruffled his hair and fought back tears as he thought about the information he had seen in the Pensieve. He didn't want Harry to die just because he was left alone by his friends.

In the darkness, Dobby rubbed his hands nervously, reflecting that perhaps the Malfoy boy didn't want to hurt poor Harry Potter – Wheezy said so. Sighing, he disappeared with a popping sound.

This time, Harry distinctly heard the sound he associated with Dobby's antics. He looked in Ron's direction, "Did you hear that, Ron?"

"Hear what, mate?" replied the redhead and then yawned.

"A popping sound."

From his bed, Seamus replied, "Heard that, Harry. It sounded like a house-elf." Harry could hear the rustling sound of blankets thrown aside and then Seamus' uncharacteristically sounding timid, "By the way, Harry – I heard all that, and I'm sorry too."

Seamus' voice dropped, and he ended whispering, "Just wanted you to know."

Harry nodded distractedly - because he was thinking that the popping sound probably came from Dobby. Perhaps the elf was trying to hurt his Dragon again.

Harry stood up; he cast _Lumos_ and bent down to open his trunk. He rummaged inside, looking for the Marauder's Map and his Invisibility Cloak. He got frustrated when he didn't find them.

Ron went to his trunk and picked something up; returning to Harry's side, he said, "Looking for this, mate?"

Ron put the Cloak and the Map on the bed. Harry picked the Marauder's Map, looking at Ron distrustfully. "What were you doing with this, following me?"

Ron held up his hands, "No, nothing like that, Harry. I'll tell you later, ok?"

Harry spread the Map on the bed and looked at his wand with the ball of light on it. Noticing his friend's dilemma, Ron took out his own wand and touched the Map, murmuring, _'I swear I'm up to no good.'_

Harry's eyes opened wide when he noticed Dobby's small footprints appearing on the seventh floor, near the Room of Requirement. Apparently his suspicions about Dobby were right, and he wanted to do more mischief.

Harry stood up, "Have to go, see you later, Ron." He mumbled low under his breath, "Bloody Room of Requirement."

Harry walked to the door, forgetting in his haste the Invisibility Cloak.

"What's going on, Ron?" asked Neville, yawning.

"Nothing, Neville. I've got to go somewhere," replied Ron distractedly.

Worried for his friend, Ron picked up the Cloak and returned to his bed. He hurriedly dressed up.

* * *

On the floor beside Hermione's bed were tomes dealing with the psychological consequences of rape, and several books about the nature of time. Her wand stood upright on the vase which was on her bed, casting a _Lumos_ spell. The curtains were closed tightly, protecting the other occupants of the room from the light.

Hermione turned the page of the book she was reading, and she was startled when a small shape flew above her bed and zoomed into the space lit by her wand, repeatedly hitting her books and the vase. Following the erratic movement of the thing, Hermione realised that it was a small paper bird.

_Perhaps it was Malfoy who sent this? That bloody ferret likes to taunt people with magical origami,_ thought Hermione suspiciously whilst she glared at the small shape.

The bird landed upon her hand. Peering at it, Hermione saw that it was a small owl haphazardly folded. The bird unfolded itself and Hermione noticed the writing. It was Ron's.

_Mione, need your help. Harry's gone out. He looks worried. After what we saw... I'm worried, that's all. He mumbled something about the Room of Requirement. Won't you come down?_

Hermione hastily put on her jeans, blouse and sweater and made her way down the stairs.

* * *

On the sixth floor, Pansy was tugging along a very tired Blaise. Her left hand held her wand, its light making her hair seem like liquid copper.

"Why do you insist on searching for Draco all of a sudden, Pansy?" Blaise eyed inquisitively the Slytherin girl.

Pansy elbowed Blaise viciously, "I received news from my father, along with something else. I'm worried about Draco. You said he wasn't in the dormitory!"

Blaise yawned like a hippogriff about to attack an uppity student, "So what? I've been known to be wrong." He shrugged tiredly, "He's probably with Harry, shagging like rabbits."

Pansy shook her head, "I don't think so. So we're going to look for Harry. I think he knows where Draco is. We went to Snape's quarters and no one answered. I think" - she peered fearfully at the shadows all around them - "he went somewhere else"

Blaise shrugged, "Severus is probably doing rounds. He's a teacher, you know."

Pansy stabbed her wand angrily towards the oblivious Blaise, its glow highlighting his handsome face from different angles. "McGonagall is the one doing that! We had to hide behind that statue just so she wouldn't catch us!"

The two feuding Slytherins were too caught up in their fight to notice the faint light reflecting off the painting with a sleeping dragon next to them until it was too late.

Pansy tugged Blaise's sweater. He swatted away her hand, "Pansy, stop!"

She stepped away, whispering urgently, "Blaise, we've got to find him!"

"Find who, Pansy?" The Slytherin girl jumped in the air and turned to face the tired visage of Professor Lupin. Remus' face was lighted by both his _Lumos_ and Pansy's.

The sleeping dragon in the painting nearby the prowling Slytherins woke up with a roar, startling the students and the teacher. It snorted angrily and glared at the living beings, finally unfolding its majestic green wings and flying to the left, disappearing from its original frame.

Pansy smacked Blaise on the head, "Don't you remember the Hogwarts motto, _Never tickle a sleeping dragon?"_

Blaise glared at her, "Nobody tickled it, Pansy!" He threw his arms in the air, "Really, I need Draco back so he can deal with you!"

"Pansy, I'm waiting for your answer. Don't make me take points!" said Remus.

The DADA professor tapped his shoe on the marble floor, waiting for the quarrelling Slytherins to speak. In a way, they reminded him of Ron and Hermione.

Pansy frowned and opened her mouth to speak, when Blaise interrupted her, "Hey, what are you doing here?"

She followed his finger and noticed a shape looming out of the shadows. Pansy smirked, "Yes, what are you doing out of your precious Gryffindor Tower, Patil?"

Parvati Patil stepped from the shadows. She was wearing a magenta sari under her robes. Her black hair was tied in a bun and she was scowling at the shadows.

Remus frowned and said softly, "Parvati was returning from visiting her sister in Ravenclaw when she had a... altercation with someone." He muttered under his breath, "Interesting use of the spell I taught her."

A second shape walked next to the abandoned painting where the dragon used to dwell. The light reflected off the girl's lustrous black hair. She scowled at Parvati and nervously fingered the sweater she was wearing under her robes.

Parvati glared at the newcomer, saying, "I was just teaching this traitor a lesson – after all she betrayed the members of Dumbledore's Army."

Cho Chang glared at Patil, "How many times do I have to tell you? It wasn't me who betrayed us!"

Cho threw her arms in the air, "It was Marietta!"

Remus advanced on the sniggering Pansy, "Well, I'm _still_ waiting for your explanation, Pansy."

* * *

In the hall of Slytherin Castle, Draco gazed at Voldemort's thin figure. His snakelike face was twisted in a grimace of triumph. His bald skull shined as he glided towards his favourite.

"Where did you get this scum, Bella?" rasped the Dark Lord.

Bellatrix knelt down in front of Voldemort and bent to kiss the hem of his robes.

"My Lord, we've brought honour to your mighty cause. We"- she motioned to her husband and Fenrir - "were just looking for some fun. We wanted to burn that awful place-"

Bellatrix stood up and turned to face the twins, sneering at them disdainfully. In the flickering light, her wild locks appeared to move in a sinister fashion - as if she were a Gorgon. When her gaze fell on Kreacher, twitching on the floor, she sniffed disgustedly.

"-that pigsty where they live - what they call the Burrow. But these two ickle freckled babies" – Bellatrix kicked the twin with the wounded ear and Draco grimaced in sympathy – "stopped us."

She leered at the twins, "But the foolish gingerheads fell to our might."

She turned to Voldemort and smiled brightly, "They're yours to do with as you please, my Lord – but I've some suggestions."

Bellatrix circled the twins – who were valiantly fighting not to utter one of their trademark smart barbs – looking like a vulture swooping down on a wounded animal in the desert.

"I look forward to some clean fun," Bellatrix said, and Draco couldn't suppress a shudder, knowing his crazy aunt and her sadistic streak.

"Like I had with the Longbottoms" - said Bellatrix, smirking at the werewolf - "or perhaps Fenrir would like to join in the fun."

Greyback growled and took two steps towards the twins, licking his lips hungrily, but Voldemort shook his head and the werewolf had to restrain himself for the moment.

Voldemort gazed malevolently at the twins, his greyish blue eyes gleaming in the dim light. He raised his thin hand, preparing to cast a dark spell.

"Perhaps they could be useful to you," said Severus as he advanced, sneering at the twins and Bellatrix. He bowed mockingly to her and ended up unobtrusively placing himself in front of the twins, obstructing Voldemort's path.

"As my Lord knows, Potter relies heavily on the Weasleys," continued Severus. His gaze shifted across the group of Death Eaters, who were avidly watching the confrontation – hoping that someone would be tortured tonight, the Weasleys, Snape or the Malfoys.

"I hope Greyback bites him!" whispered Amycus, while his sister giggled.

Bellatrix interrupted Snape, "Ooh, Severus is worried about the little gingerheads!" She shook her head in mock surprise, her curls tumbling wildly.

"I don't trust you. You've had Potter under your thumb for five and a half years and yet" - Bellatrix approached Severus and looked into his eyes, as if she could read his mind - "you let him live!"

Severus bowed to Voldemort, replying, "The honour of killing Potter must belong to our glorious Lord!"

Glaring at Bellatrix, Severus continued, "You are mistaken. I am the Dark Lord's to command, as I've always been."

"Nonetheless, I don't trust you," Bellatrix said, a scowl marring her ravaged features. Turning to Voldemort, she added, "With my Lord's permission, you will swear an Unbreakable Vow."

 

 


	12. The Unbreakable Vow, second part

 

His gaze shifting restlessly between his aunt and Severus, Draco tried to school his features into his trademark sneer. There were subtle nuances to performing such a Vow. Although Draco admired Severus' skill - subtly hiding his true allegiances and secretly thumbing his nose at Voldemort - it was Draco who'd grown up around dark magic. The Slytherin knew that Severus would be irreversibly bound to that Vow, and he would probably die as a result.

Although Severus was truly the epitome of a Slytherin, there was a certain way to circumvent the Vow whilst adhering strictly to its principles. It was something Lucius had drilled in him, a duplicity his father insisted he should learn – and for once, Draco was thankful to Lucius. Besides, Draco knew how to goad Bellatrix. From what his mother told him, it was an art in which his other aunt, Andromeda Tonks, had also excelled.

Gathering his courage, Draco walked up and stopped next to his godfather. He bowed to Voldemort, "I think Snape's idea has merit, my Lord." Snape put a hand on Draco's shoulder and squeezed it painfully, conveying his message that Draco should just stay quiet.

Draco turned to his godfather and shrugged minutely. He shifted his gaze to the Dark Lord's repugnant face, adding, "This will surely help me in my plotting."

Draco sidled next to the twins and kicked the uninjured one's leg, "I will put them under _Imperius_ and use them to weaken Potter."

The blond boy heard the wheezy giggles of the Carrows – they were surely enjoying themselves, delighting in the misery of others – and dismissed them from his mind, concentrating on the task at hand.

Draco suspected what the Dark Lord would do next and thus shoved to the forefront of his consciousness the time when the twins and Potter beat him up after the Quidditch game. He also held in his mind the occasion when fake Moody turned him into a ferret. He vividly recalled hearing the crowd around him, laughing – visually it was all a blur due to the movement and shift from a human viewpoint to an animal one. So he let his humiliation and desire for revenge flood his mind.

Voldemort used his _Legilimency_ on Draco. After a minute, a smirk graced his snakelike face and he lifted his wand, content with the results of his mental probe.

But Bellatrix was suspicious of her nephew, she muttered hoarsely, "How can we be sure about ickle Draco's motives?"

Bellatrix said loudly, "I taught Draco _Occlumency_ , my Lord. He is rather good at that." She put her hands on her slender hips and sneered maliciously at her nephew, "One of the few things he's good at. I don't trust him!"

She approached Draco and poked his chest, "He's always babbling about Potter. Lucius told me so."

Draco mentally shook his head at his indiscreet father.

Bellatrix circled Draco like a hungry vulture, "I think _Draco_ should be the one to swear an Unbreakable Vow."

Narcissa muffled a scream from behind her gloved hand. She walked shakily towards the Dark Lord, but when she passed near Severus, he grabbed her waist tightly and whispered in her ear, "Don't distract your son, Narcissa."

But her mother's instincts overrode any sense of self-preservation, as it would always happen when it came down to her precious son. Narcissa shouted, "No, Draco is just a boy!"

Narcissa looked imploringly at the Dark Lord. "You can't make him do that!"

Bellatrix faced her sister, "Cissy, you coddle your little Dragon too much. You and Lucius both." She thumper her chest, "If I had a son, I'd offer him proudly to the Dark Lord's cause."

Voldemort took several steps towards Narcissa and trained his wand on her, "You are wrong, Narcissa. If Draco is to rise among my Death Eaters, this is a good idea."

Narcissa swayed against Severus, and if it hadn't been for his strong arms around her, she would have slid to the floor.

Severus looked at the Dark Lord with an inscrutable expression, "If it pleases my Lord, I will be the Bonder." _Perhaps I can salvage the situation this brat has put himself into,_ thought Severus resignedly.

Voldemort grinned evilly. Draco would surely fail to fulfil this Vow - and he would die. This would teach Lucius a painful lesson; after all, his former second in command failed in his task to retrieve the Prophecy – not to mention ruining one of his Horcruxes.

The Dark Lord motioned for Draco and Bellatrix to approach him. He said hoarsely, "I'll be the Bonder myself. This should prove to be interesting."

Bellatrix took her nephew's hand and moved sideways in a circle, so that Draco was forced to follow her.

"Will you swear to me, ickle Dragon? Will you swear to work against Potter?" Bellatrix put her other hand on her chest and pretended to swoon, "Can your ickle heart do that?"

Draco knew that the phrasing of the Vow was important, as vital as the intent behind it. The magic of the Vow judged the results according to that - a fact which he'd use in his favour. He was getting dizzy from following aunt Bella's circling ways.

Draco gripped tightly Bellatrix' hand - stopping her motion - and mocked her tone, goading his aunt, "You want me to bring Potter down, agony aunt? You want to see him on his knees?"

He smirked infuriatingly and curtsied, "Course I'll do that, auntie Celestina! Ooh, wrong name!"

The Slytherin boy knew that Bellatrix abhorred any mention of the singer. Bellatrix had a passing resemblance to Celestina Warbeck, and their voices were a bit similar but that was where the comparison ended. Warbeck was famous and successful - and Bellatrix hated to be compared to the Weird Sisters singer.

Bellatrix' mouth twisted angrily and she interrupted her tirade - which was exactly what Draco wanted. She jerked their joint hands, "So ickle Draco is afraid! Doesn't surprise me!"

The Dark Lord rasped, "Enough with this nonsense, Bella!"

Leering at Narcissa, the Dark Lord sidled next to the pair and lightly put the tip of his wand on their joint hands.

Narcissa tried vainly to evade Severus' steel grasp. A grimace of anguish marred her exquisite features as Bellatrix turned to smirk at her helpless sister.

Bellatrix cackled madly and then sneered at her nephew.

"Will you, Draco Malfoy, swear that you will bring Harry Potter to his knees?" said Bellatrix, her train of thought derailed by her nephew's insolence.

"I will," said Draco solemnly, whilst thinking of Harry on his knees in front of him - something the Seekers hadn't done yet.

A slender, green beam shot out from Voldemort's wand and formed lines on their forearms.

"Will you, Draco Malfoy, uphold faithfully the pureblood ideals?" added Bellatrix.

"I will," answered Draco, whilst thinking about nurturing the magical world - and the further spread of magic amongst all kinds of people, without distinctions.

A second beam of light shot out from the Dark Lord's wand and intertwined with the first, creating a crisscross pattern upon Draco's unblemished forearm.

Bellatrix was going to add something more, but at that moment Narcissa broke free from Severus and smacked Bellatrix on her head. Bellatrix turned to glare at her sister. Bella was going to add something but the Dark Lord shook his head. Voldemort appeared to be satisfied with the Vow as it was.

The pattern retreated to their clasped hands, sinking at last like the jaws of a voracious snake.

Voldemort lifted his wand and sighed. He was smirking when he turned to Narcissa, picturing Draco dead at her feet - because he failed to fulfil the Vow.

The blond boy bowed to the Dark Lord and then turned a malevolent glare on the twins.

"Come on, we have much to discuss and _Crucios_ to try. I'll bet Potter will be surprised when you betray him," drawled Draco.

The wounded twin tried to attack Draco, but the other redhead held him back, whispering something in his brother's intact ear.

Draco nudged with his foot the fallen house-elf, and motioned for Fred – or George – to pick him up. "I will use this creature to teach you how to behave."

Draco motioned to Narcissa, "Come on, mother. I'll show you things that will make you proud of me."

Narcissa looked fearfully at the Dark Lord, who lifted his wand to his forehead in a mock salute and motioned for her to accompany her son. Draco turned to look at his godfather. To anyone else, Severus looked as imperturbable as ever, but Draco could see the signs of stress – Draco nodded to him and shifted his gaze to the twins.

Fred – or George - picked up the trembling Kreacher and the group, led by a smirking Draco, made their way amongst the malevolent gazes of the surrounding Death Eaters. Fenrir Greyback moved in front of Draco to stop them, growling fiercely – thinking of the lost chance to infect such precocious children – but Voldemort stopped him with an angry movement of his wand.

After they left the hall and its stink behind, Draco pointed to the crumbling stairs - lit by two sconces - motioning for the twins to go first. He took his mother's hand and tried to calm her down rubbing his thumb along her palm – something he used to do as a child when Lucius scolded him too much. Surprised, Narcissa looked at Draco. There was a new maturity in her son's fine features. Narcissa held the hope that Draco would not succumb to the Death Eater way – that there was purity and a hidden kindness that would not allow him to kill and torture. Holding that hope deep in her heart, she dried her tears with her other hand and followed her son, who held his wand menacingly at the twins.

They descended to the dungeons; none of them noticed a slithering movement in the dark.

Nagini was following them. The serpent was raging mad at losing her small though inviting meal. She determined to find out what the three boys and the woman were up to.

The group passed the torture room; Filch would have salivated if he could see it - together with red-eyed Mrs. Norris.

Draco let go of his mother's hand and stepped in front of the twins, opening the door to a hardly used room. With a flick of his wand he lighted the sole sconce on the opposite wall. Inside were several white masks lying on the floor and two or three broken brooms. He bowed and motioned for Narcissa to go first. Then Draco smiled maliciously and pointed to the door with his hand, whilst the twins glared at him. The scowling duo finally entered, one of them cradling tenderly the shivering house-elf.

Draco closed softly the stout wood door behind him. Once the group was safely hidden from the gazes of the Death Eaters, Draco swished his wand and conjured a white bandage which he passed to the uninjured twin.

"Which Weasley are you anyway?" drawled Draco, choosing not to react to the twin's ferocious scowl.

The redhead yanked the bandage from Draco's hand. "I'm George and that" – he pointed to the bleeding twin – "is Fred."

George wrapped delicately the bandage around Fred's ear. George turned to Draco and sighed dejectedly, "Can you tighten it, Malfoy?"

Draco nodded and with a flick of his wand the white bandage shrank a bit on Fred's head. He approached Fred and held the wand gingerly against his ear, casting a healing charm. Draco moved his wand with a slashing motion towards the twins and then his mother, casting _Evanesco_ and eliminating the blood from their clothes.

Fred sighed, "Now you are going to use _Imperius_? We expected something better from you, ferret!"

Draco scowled at Fred but didn't answer him. He walked to the corner and tugged a threadbare canvas, uncovering a black box, ornately carved. It was about 9 feet high and 5 feet wide.

Turning to the twins, Draco smirked and pointed to the box, "Recognise this, Weasleys? You should, for it'll help you escape."

The twins looked at each other, their faces breaking into a wide smile for the first time since they'd been captured.

"Right..." said Fred.

"That's the cabinet where we..." continued George.

"... Shoved Montague, the slimy..." added Fred. Draco and Narcissa were moving their heads like they were following a tennis match.

"... Slytherin Quidditch captain!" finished the twins triumphantly.

"Exactly, my dear redheads," drawled Draco.

"That" – Draco pointed to the Cabinet – "leads to the Room of Hidden Things."

The Slytherin brushed invisible lint off his robes, "Voldemort wanted me to find a way into Hogwarts. My dear uncle Rodolphus-"Draco snorted.

"-Bought the one in Borgin and Burkes and moved it here." Draco glared at the smirking twins. "After I learned of poor Montague's disappearance into thin air..."

"Courtesy of the Weasley twins," chorused Fred and George.

Draco stabbed his wand in the twins' direction. "Anyway, I repaired the one at Hogwarts and made it operational, whilst insisting to the Dark Lord that it was nearly impossible to fix."

Draco looked at his wand and then at the twins. "By the way, what happened to your wands?"

Fred pointed to his ear; it was easy for Draco to distinguish them now because Fred was the one with the bandage - and the one who was glaring at him right now.

It was George who said, "After a spell cast by your bloody aunt got poor Fred-"

Fred turned to glare at George, who shrugged nonchalantly and waved a finger at Fred, "You got careless, Fred. Remember..."

"Constant Vigilance!" yelled the twins. Amidst the banter of the boys, the sound of something hissing behind the door went unnoticed.

Draco made shooing motions with his hands and said, "Do you want the Death Eaters to come here? Are you mad?"

Fred shrugged and said, "After I fell, George rushed to my side and Bellatrix disarmed him. My wand was on the floor."

George reclined lazily against the Cabinet and added, "After she immobilised us, she pocketed our wands, the bitch!"

George smiled innocently at Narcissa, "Your pardon, Mrs. Malfoy."

Narcissa waved her hand elegantly, "Not necessary, Mr. Weasley. Lately I've been thinking the same thing."

Fred gazed at the cabinet, "So you're letting us go, Malfoy? Won't that blow your cover with You-Know-Who?"

"I've grown tired of playing the spy," said Draco, taking his mother's hand. "I'll leave that business to Severus. Besides, I bet Harry will be only too happy to see you two. After all, you're the only Weasleys that fully support him."

Draco scowled at the smirking twins, "Though you still owe me one beating."

George crossed his arms and mimicked Draco's drawl, "So why bother with that Unbreakable Vow?"

Frowning at the flippant Weasley, Draco answered, "Had to get us out of there. You wanted me to take a roomful of Death Eaters singlehandedly?"

Draco winked at Narcissa, "I'm no Gryffindork, you know."

Fred smirked, "Yeah, you're no Gryffindor. You're just a ferret!"

Draco growled. He trained his wand on the twins and with an angry motion, muttered a spell. Immediately, the twins' robes turned a brilliant pink.

Fred turned to George and wiped invisible tears off his cheek, "What do you know, Forge? Our ickle Drakkiekins is growing up at last!"

George snorted, "Yeah, though he could show more taste. This clashes horribly with our hair."

Draco rolled his eyes and threw his arms in the air, "What, you wanted your robes fuchsia? I'm not Dumbledork either!"

Narcissa smiled at the banter of the boys. For a moment, she had been afraid that Draco had succumbed to the teachings of his father. But looking at her son's flushed face and bright, stormy eyes, she realised that Draco was truly a Slytherin, able to wade his way through danger and outsmart his enemies. She frowned, remembering the Unbreakable Vow and wondering how in Merlin's name Draco would fulfil that.

Kreacher groaned and trashed weakly on the floor. Draco sighed, looking down at his elf defender. He walked to the cabinet and opened the door, motioning for Narcissa to enter.

"Mother, if you will," Draco extended his left hand to Narcissa. She gently squeezed it and with her other hand caressed his face. The touch of her velvet glove felt soft - like a feather - upon Draco's cheek.

"I'm very proud of you, my Dragon," said Narcissa tenderly. She entered the cabinet walking regally.

After surreptitiously wiping his cheek, Draco waved for George to put Kreacher into the cabinet, next to Narcissa.

Draco smiled lovingly at his mother and gently closed the cabinet door, muttering _'Harmonia Nectere Passus'_ to activate it.

Draco was still gazing at the cabinet that had conveyed his mother to safety when the door shook violently. He exchanged concerned glances with the twins and barely had time to turn around when the door was torn off its hinges- and a furious Nagini slithered into the room.

 

\--

In Hogwarts, Dobby was sniffling into one of his woollen hats which he'd found on the floor in front of the Room of Hidden Things. He shifted his feet and gazed morosely at the tapestry with the dancing trolls.

Apparently he'd been a little too hasty about his former master, the Malfoy boy who was now a very good friend of Harry Potter's.

The stone wall in front of Dobby flowed and formed a door through which a witch appeared, holding in her arms a small shape. Dobby looked agape at the woman he knew so well.

 

 


	13. Slithering

 

Dobby nervously took off his woollen hats, staring wide-eyed at his former mistress, Narcissa Malfoy. He timidly approached her and peered up at the unmoving figure of his antagonist, Kreacher, cradled in the arms of Mrs. Malfoy. She had always treated Dobby fairly, unlike her dreadful husband – and she did not appear to share the evil, Potter-hurting ways of her son. Dobby shrugged and corrected himself - mentally ironing his fingers - her _former_ evil son Draco.

Dobby opened his mouth to ask a question and at that precise moment Harry arrived. His hair sticking every which way, his clothes rumpled, Harry waved his wand menacingly at the house-elf, its tip glowing with the _Lumos_ spell.

"Don't move, Dobby!" shouted Harry. Glancing at Narcissa and the inert shape of Kreacher, he added urgently, "Don't hurt Draco's mother!"

Apparently Dobby hurt poor Kreacher and Narcissa had intervened to defend the Black house-elf. But then Harry frowned, realising that Narcissa _was_ in the castle. _Why is she here? I might be wrong; she didn't appear out of thin air just to defend Kreacher. Perhaps Draco's in trouble and called her?_ thought Harry, worry creeping into his mind.

Harry looked sharply at Mrs. Malfoy, who was carrying a prostrate Kreacher in her arms, holding him tenderly. He vividly imagined Draco in trouble; after all, Kreacher seemed to be devoted to the Slytherin. House-elves were sturdy creatures, for Kreacher to be so weakened he must have fought something very powerful - and then Narcissa's presence fully clicked in. _Just how in Merlin's name did she pass the wards?_ wondered Harry.

"Where's Draco, Mrs. Malfoy?" asked Harry tremulously.

Narcissa was tempted to lie to Harry, to tell him that everything was all right and he didn't have to worry. But looking into his concerned face, seeing his green eyes big and bright in the _Lumos_ light, made her pause. His anguished voice indicated that Harry cared deeply for Draco, and her little Dragon had always been obsessed by the green-eyed Gryffindor; lately his letters spoke of little else but Harry. Narcissa recalled her son writing her about Harry chafing under the crushing safety cocoon arbitrarily imposed by the Order.

Narcissa glanced at the wall of the Room of Hidden Things, worried because Draco and the Weasleys had not appeared yet. _I shouldn't have left Draco behind; my little Dragon's plans sometimes backfire on him,_ thought Narcissa guiltily.

With all these thoughts informing her mind, she made her decision. Narcissa willingly took the plunge and told Harry the truth.

"Draco is with the Dark Lord in his hideaway in Slytherin Castle," said Narcissa, depositing Kreacher gently on the floor.

"We managed to escape through the Vanishing Cabinet-" Narcissa pointed to the wall behind which was the Room of Hidden Things.

"-But Draco has not returned yet, nor the Weasley twins," added Narcissa, a frown marring her face.

Harry grimaced and yanked his hair, picturing Voldemort torturing Draco and the twins. He squared his shoulders and determinedly said, "I have to go and rescue them!"

"But the castle is under strong wards; we only got out through the Cabinet," replied Narcissa. Her exquisite face was twisted in anguish, and drops of sweat appeared on her alabaster forehead, as the seconds ticked by and she realised the predicament her precious son was in - trapped within Voldemort's lair, with no means of escape.

"And you can't go alone!" added Narcissa forcefully, tugging helplessly her velvet gloves.

At that moment a ghostly glow appeared in the corridor where they were standing, opposite the Room. Narcissa peered intently at the voluminous glow of the Fat Friar – a ghost she was fond of.

She approached the Hufflepuff ghost, intent on getting help for the Black elf and then returning to help Draco. She did not notice Harry bending down and whispering to Dobby. The small house-elf had listened to their hurried conversation with interest, shifting his feet on the floor and pulling on his sweater.

"Friar! Could you get Madame Pomfrey and tell her to come here and take care of poor Kreacher?" Narcissa pointed to the trashing house-elf. Although elves were magically strong, the amount of _Crucios_ the old elf had received did not bode well for his health – and Narcissa wanted to take care of him. Spending all those years with only the portrait of her aunt Walburga; with the house empty and no one to take care of – the harshest fate for an elf – had not been precisely kind on the house-elf, and Kreacher deserved better.

"Will do that at once, jolly lass!" replied the Fat Friar and sunk, disappearing into the floor. Narcissa turned to look at Harry, still crouching down next to Dobby, and frowned when Harry looked at her guiltily.

Harry held a conversation with Dobby whilst Narcissa took care of Kreacher.

"Dobby, can you pass through Voldemort's wards and take me to Draco?" whispered Harry, his face next to Dobby's, almost touching his large ear with his glasses.

"Dobby can!" The elf thumped his chest proudly, but then his ears drooped. "But Dobby does not know where the evil-" Dobby gulped under Harry's stern gaze "-mmh… the good Malfoy boy is!"

Harry whispered urgently, "There must be some sort of connection! Draco was your master for many years!"

Frowning, Dobby stretched his hands and contemplated Harry's words for a moment. Then he looked up at Harry. "Master Harry is right! Dobby can take Harry Potter to him!"

Holding Harry's hand reverently, Dobby snapped his fingers and both of them disappeared, under the horrified gaze of Narcissa. The boys and she could hardly succeed against so many Death Eaters and Voldemort; but taking a determined step towards the Room of Hidden Things, Narcissa resolved to go back to the castle and fight to the death for her son, for he meant the world to her.

A second later Narcissa was nearly bowled over by something colliding against her. Regaining her equilibrium, she turned around and saw two sets of legs appearing on the floor – followed a moment later by the upper bodies of Harry's friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Hermione was holding her wand that emitted a bright glow which had been hidden by the Invisibility Cloak.

* * *

In the dungeons in Slytherin Castle, Draco and the Weasley twins moved closer as Nagini hissed furiously, coiling herself. Her jaws stretching to their limit, she was ready to either bite or crush the puny humans that dared deprive her of her richly deserved meal. Nagini lunged at the astounded wizards, her rapid motion belying her behemoth weight.

Draco barely had time to jump to the left, immediately followed by Fred, whilst George lunged to the right.

The snake, which expected to crush one of these boys, instead crashed into the Vanishing Cabinet. Wood splinters rained on the boys, and Draco realised with despair that the cabinet had been destroyed – their only means of escape. Nagini retreated slithering erratically - her eyes crossed due to the impact.

George groaned, holding his elbow gingerly. He cursed the fact that Bellatrix had taken their wands. Meanwhile, Draco lifted his wand and swished it frantically, casting two strong curses at the snake in quick succession. The spells hit Nagini on her reptilian hide just behind her head, but they seemed to be ineffective.

"Come on, Malfoy, do something!" Fred exclaimed, looking at Draco with distress. Sweat drops glistened on their faces as they looked at the snake with worried expressions. Nagini raised her head and moved fitfully, shaking her head from side to side – still recuperating from the impact.

"Can't – bloody snake is impervious to magic!" said Draco after casting another spell.

"Do something, ferret!" shouted George from the other side of the room. "The snake's recovering!"

Draco yelled, "I don't see you doing anything, gingerhead!"

George scowled, rummaging in the pocket of his pink robe. The twins had been doing inventory in their shop just before they went to the Burrow to enjoy one of Molly's customary lavish dinners – which had been brutally interrupted when they had to face the crazed Death Eaters to defend their home. George had pocketed some sweets which Fed complained didn't sell so well anymore; he'd promised Fred that they would improve this particular brand.

George smirked when he found what he wanted; just in time because Nagini had recovered completely from the impact caused by the cabinet. She turned and hissed ominously at George, and then she lunged at him. George rolled sideways, throwing a small sweet into her voracious maw. He scrabbled backwards until he was trapped against the damp stone walls of the dungeons.

Draco twisted on the floor, fingering the tear in his formerly pristine clothes. _Bloody snake had to ruin my best robes,_ thought Draco grumpily.

Pointing his wand at the serpent, the Slytherin fired two successive cutting spells that finally appeared to work. The snake began to bleed from two cuts along her sinuous body.

Nonetheless, Nagini reared triumphantly as she slithered towards George. Draco and Fred, realising the predicament George was in, threw themselves on the serpent, but the enormous snake shook them off easily. Draco landed on his back next to the destroyed cabinet and Fred ended right next to Nagini.

Realising one of the troublesome boys was next to her, Nagini opened her jaws wide, preparing to bite Fred. But then she stopped suddenly as the treat she had ingested began to act. Nagini felt her forked tongue was growing rapidly. She coughed repeatedly, but it was all for nought, because her tongue grew until it was four feet long.

As Nagini shook her head and tried to breathe, forgetting temporarily the troublesome wizards, Fred stood up shakily and patted George's back. "Forge - great idea, using a Ton-Tongue Toffee. You take after me!"

George thumped Fred's back, glaring at his twin. "Sure, Gred. And you said we had to improve them!"

Draco rolled his eyes and grabbed Fred's robe. "Come on. Let's go before the snake recovers!"

George touched the sleeve of his pink robe. "Where do you get your spells, Malfoy? Umbridge? They don't seem to work."

Shrugging nonchalantly, Draco replied, "The snake seems to be magically protected."

Draco kicked Nagini as the trio made their way past the struggling serpent, which was twisting and trashing her tail, trying to breathe. She wanted to hiss menacingly at them but her enormous tongue made it impossible. The wizards walked past the remains of the door and made their way to the corridor.

In the room, Nagini thrashed and when she felt her tongue shrinking rapidly back to its normal size, the serpent slithered towards the boys.

Fred tugged Draco's robe. "How will we get out of here, Malfoy?"

"We'll just have to chance it, like Harry does," replied Draco, a grimace marring his face, which was sweaty and dusty from all the rolling around trying to evade the inexorable serpent.

When they were near the stairs Nagini, her tongue finally back to its normal size, lunged after them. Striking like an arrow, she coiled herself around Draco's legs before the boys had time to react.

* * *

Ron was running down the marble stairs, clutching the Cloak in his right hand, Hermione right after him. Narcissa was trailing them. Narcissa had told them succinctly about the predicament Draco – and now Harry – faced, trusting that Weasley and Granger would rush to help Harry and the twins, if not Draco.

Afterwards, they had entered the Room of Hidden Things and Narcissa vainly tried to use the cabinet to return to Draco's side.

Narcissa had exchanged worried glances with Hermione and Ron. They all faced the grim realisation that neither of the boys was returning. They were trapped in that loathsome castle.

Narcissa felt engulfed by a maelstrom of emotions - anguish, despair and fear amongst them; but she resolutely pushed them to the background. It was up to her to care for Draco – and Lucius – and she intended to wreak havoc on the Death Eaters if they touched her son. She had lived with fear for her family ever since the awful Dark Lord had returned, but like the Slytherin she was, she managed to compartmentalise her emotions. _I'll blast all those smirking Death Eaters, beginning with Greyback and ending with Bellatrix, the bitch! I bet she and her twits from hell, Riddle and Rodolphus, are just waiting for the chance to move to the Manor. She was always jealous of Andie and me,_ thought Narcissa angrily.

It was Hermione who suggested they should look for McGonagall, who'd been patrolling the fifth floor when she and Ron had dashed through Hogwarts, hoping to find Harry in the Room of Requirement.

Hermione ran behind Ron, clutching her wand to her bosom, its glow casting jerky shadows as she moved. She felt stitches running through her chest but she pressed on.

Ron was running as if Fluffy was after him; he dreaded the thought of seeing Harry dead. This was truly a nightmare for Ron, Harry leaving him after Ron had been such a prat lately.

Ron was in such a hurry that he didn't notice the silhouettes outlined by two balls of light in front of him and he had to swerve in the last second to avoid crashing into a man. Instead Ron skidded and bumped into a painting of a hippogriff. Startled by the jarring movement of its abode, the eagle-headed creature reared its head and lunged at the uncouth boy who so rudely interrupted its dreams. Fortunately it was just a painting and did nothing apart from startling Hermione and Narcissa - who still had nightmares about such creatures attacking her helpless son.

"Easy now, what's the matter?" said the calming voice of Remus.

Ron and Hermione tried to tell the story, but their explanations were rather incoherent. It was Narcissa, fear and anguish permeating her voice, who briefly told the problem in front of the other students. There was no time for secrecy when the lives of the students trapped in Voldemort's lair were at stake.

After hearing the news, Remus immediately sent a _Patronus_ message to Albus. The amorphous light of the _Patronus_ brought a poignant reminder of Tonks to the DADA professor's mind.

After dispatching the message, Remus shook his head and looked sternly at the assembled students. "You lot stay here."

He ignored the indignant gasps coming from his enraged students and Narcissa. "I'll go and join Albus – he'll surely figure a way to save Harry."

"B… but we h... have to save Harry," stammered Ron. Cho and Parvati simultaneously said, "Yes!" In her distress, Parvati gripped tightly Cho's hand, all thoughts of her supposed betrayal forgotten.

"Someone might turn Draco into a slug again, let's save him!" said Cho, and then she belatedly added, "And also the wet kisser, of course!"

Hermione glared at the Ravenclaw girl, and Cho scowled fiercely at the Gryffindors.

"Yeah!" Blaise shook his fist in the air and smiled sympathetically at Ron, the friend who'd deserted him long ago for unknown reasons. Frowning, Blaise added softly, "But we don't know where You-Know-Who's castle is, and even if we did, it's bound to be protected."

Remus turned and walked away, determinedly holding his wand to light his way back to Albus' office, when the uncharacteristically timid voice of Pansy stopped him. "Actually, I have a way to get there."

Pansy took a shiny object from the pocket of her robes. The golden cylinder gleamed in the light - a thin leather cord hanging from a small hole on its side. Pansy's knuckles were wrapped tightly around a red wood spindle.

Parvati gasped and pointed at the cylinder. "Where'd you get a prayer wheel, Pansy?"

Holding it aloft, Pansy replied, "This is a Portkey my father sent me. It's supposed to take me to You-Know-Who for my initiation."

With her other hand, she brushed tears off her cheek. One of the reasons Draco decided to spy was because he wanted to know beforehand when she and Blaise would take the Dark Mark so he could prevent it. _Draco will probably end up in the hospital, like the time when that ugly hippogriff attacked him_ , thought Pansy. She sobbed when she felt Blaise's hand gently squeezing her shoulder.

Remus realised that the Portkey could take them all to the boys in a moment. He trusted his students would use the spells he'd taught them effectively. And as Dumbledore was so fond of saying, 'the fate of our world depends on Harry.' So rather than go to the Headmaster and wait for the Order, the professor decided to take this shortcut. After Remus elegantly moved his wand and enlarged the prayer wheel, he nodded, looking sharply at Pansy, waiting for her to say the password. But a voice coming from the darkness prevented Pansy from uttering the word.

"You're not going anywhere without me, Remus, are you?" asked Tonks. She walked into the light, her hair a wild riot of pink and fuchsia. Her arms akimbo, Tonks confronted Remus with a scowl on her face. "I was bringing you hot chocolate for your patrols." Tonks hefted a silver thermos, a bit larger than the bottle Mad-Eye Moody used.

Narcissa realised this was her sister's daughter; she resembled Andromeda. _Perhaps there'll be time later on to mend fences with her and Andie,_ thought Narcissa, before an overwhelming wave of anxiety for her son hit her.

After Remus explained the situation in few words, mindful of the urgency, Tonks took her place amongst the people surrounding the Portkey. Shrugging, Tonks thought they needed something, an edge that would help them fight against You-Know-Who. Even in the dim light, it was quite noticeable when her hair became darker until it turned black, elongating and forming riotous curls. Her features changed and became those of her _other_ aunt. Tonks turned and winked at a distraught Narcissa.

With a precise swish of her wand, Narcissa changed her niece's clothes. Hermione and Ron shuddered when they beheld the perfect replica of Bellatrix Lestrange standing next to them. Finally, Narcissa turned and nodded distractedly to Pansy.

When Pansy murmured the password, they were transported out of Hogwarts.

* * *

In his struggle to shake Nagini off his body, Draco dropped his wand. Fred jumped on Nagini and tried to stop her movement. The serpent intended to crush Draco's legs.

In the general commotion, no one noticed the skulking figure of Slughorn, who had come out of the dungeon where he'd been preparing potions for Voldemort when he heard the fight. He took a long look at the struggling figures of the snake and the boys and hastily stepped away towards the potions room. This fight didn't portend anything good for him, and he was still suffering the aftereffects of the _Crucio._ He decided to use his trusted camouflage method.

Fortunately the time Slughorn spent as manager of a furniture store in Concord, New Hampshire had allowed him to memorise different useful forms. In a graceful motion, the portly man transformed into a slender oak chair, whose back and sides consisted of multiple thin spindles attached to a solid, simple seat. Its legs splayed slightly outward and its back reclined at a slight angle. _Those Americans are good craftsmen. This way I don't have to worry about upholstery; and there are no bloody cats around,_ thought the colonial chair smugly.

George, seeing Draco's empty hands, tried to search for his wand on the floor, but the dim light of the sconce farther away on the corridor didn't permit him to search effectively. Realising the futility of looking for the wand, George joined the fray, jumping on Nagini.

Draco and the twins were punching Nagini with their bare fists; the twins also kicked the snake where they could. Nagini, though magically enhanced by Voldemort, was weakened by the spirited fight the troublesome wizards put up. She started to suffer under the combined assault of the unruly boys and the cuts Draco had inflicted earlier. Releasing her hold on Draco, Nagini tried mightily to shake them off and concentrate her attack on one of them. They all wrestled violently on the floor. The three boys and Nagini were entangled in a writhing mess not unlike the sculpture of the Laocoon.

When Dobby arrived with a popping sound, holding Harry's hand, the sound went unnoticed.

The elf frowned when he saw the predicament that the Malfoy boy and the Wheezy seniors were in. Rapidly snapping his fingers, he magically flung the snake to the ceiling. There was a loud sound as Nagini's upper body collided with the ceiling. Pieces of rock fell to the floor. A big rock trembled on the brink of falling down. No one noticed this except a big brown rat which had stopped on his way from the castle's sewers, returning to deliver his report to his master. The rat observed the scene with beady eyes, noting the sudden arrival of the elf and the boy. When small pebbles rained on the rat – known as Wormtail - and he was almost trampled by Nagini's trashing tail, the rat scampered away towards the stairs.

George and Draco were thrown across the corridor. Fred collided with George and rolled sideways, ending next to the jerking serpent. Nagini dazedly reared her head and prepared to lunge at Fred, who was struggling to sit up – just three feet away from the snake. More pebbles rained on the snake, Fred and Draco - who looked up at the ceiling with a puzzled expression.

Nagini's tail was trashing madly and hit Dobby, who was sent flying and collided with the wall next to George. Entranced, Draco saw part of the ceiling crumbling above Fred's head.

In these few seconds, Harry had little chance to act faced with the pandemonium involving the wizards and Nagini. In the moment of respite after Dobby hit the wall, Harry seized his chance and trained his wand on Nagini. He used the spell that was uppermost in his mind.

Draco shook off his stupor and lunged at Fred.

Harry muttered, _'Adagissimo.'_

And the big stone that trembled ominously above Fred's head finally fell.

Before the spell hit Nagini, her head struck a glancing blow against Draco's chest just when Draco collided with Fred. Both boys rolled across the floor, finally hitting the wall with a thumping sound.

Immobilised by the spell, Nagini was unable to move aside as the stone fell. Harry watched mesmerised as the heavy stone struck the serpent's skull and killed her instantly.

Draco gingerly touched his aching chest. Smirking at his boyfriend, he wheezed, "Good...shot...Harry!"

Harry looked at Draco tenderly. The Slytherin was covered with dust and serpent blood, his blond hair resembled a hedgehog's quills, strewn in every direction; there were dark smudges on his cheeks and nose, his robe was torn in several places – and Draco had never looked more enticing, more powerful than in this moment.

Fred's bandage had slipped and was tinted red with Nagini's blood.

Harry smiled, approaching Fred and Draco, avoiding Nagini's still jerking body. With practiced ease, he cast _Evanesco_ on his boyfriend, Fred and George. Harry eyed curiously the twin's clothes. Draco stood up, shaking the dust off his robes and looking for his wand in the dim light.

George stood up, brushing his pink robe. He walked up to Fred and offered his hand. Groaning, Fred took it and stood up. "Did you see her tongue, Forge? It was like a snake coming out of a snake!"

"Gred, I think I have an idea for a new product," replied George, brushing Fred's robes fastidiously whilst Fred adjusted minutely the bandage wrapped around his head.

"Umbridge was here, right?" said Harry, winking at Draco and smiling wickedly. Draco growled.

Dobby slowly stood up, groaning. Shaking his head, the elf looked at the dead body of the snake, thinking that it would have been easier to use a magicked Bludger to get rid of her.

Dobby frowned when he saw Harry Potter hugging the Malfoy boy. When he looked towards the end of the corridor, he saw another evil person he recognised from his time serving the Malfoys. He stood valiantly in front of Harry Potter and the boys and prepared to do battle again.

* * *

Voldemort was leisurely _crucioing_ Amycus Carrow – his yelling masking the noises coming from the dungeons - when a short, balding man out of breath burst into the hall.

Pettigrew ran to Voldemort's side and said between gasps, "My… Lord… Potter's here…"

Voldemort's lipless smile turned predatory, listening to the message.

"A... house-elf… seems to've brought him…" continued Pettigrew, bowing as he clutched his chest.

Voldemort grimaced in a sinister parody of a smile. He walked to the center of the hall, the Death Eaters parting before him like scared ants.

His wand arm stretched horizontally, Voldemort rotated slowly whilst speaking Parseltongue. A bright light shot out of his wand, blinding those present before it seeped into the stone walls and beyond. After he finished, he announced to the Death Eaters, "I have strengthened the wards. Potter will not escape."

He glared at the expectant faces of his followers and announced, "No one must touch him! He is bound to come here, for there is no way out of the castle now. We will wait for him!"

Sneering at the prostrate Carrow, Voldemort walked to his golden throne and sat down. Surveying the assembled Death Eaters, he said ominously, "I must be the one to kill Harry Potter!"

Severus touched his Portkey and weighed his options. When the boys appeared, should he save his godson or Harry Potter, who was essential to the fight against Voldemort?

But there was one Death Eater who did not hear Voldemort, for Bellatrix Lestrange had made her hurried way out of the hall once she heard that Harry Potter was here.

 

 


	14. Whose wand is it anyway?

 

Albus Dumbledore was in his office, rummaging in the drawers of his desk. He was trying desperately to find the Snitch where he'd put the clue he intended to leave for Harry, to aid him in the completion of his daunting task. Not finding it, he stood up and went to the perch near his desk. He petted his phoenix, Fawkes, and complained loudly about his lack of success tracing Voldemort's horcruxes.

"Fawkes, I don't know how many of these devices Voldemort has. But I hate to think that perhaps our Harry is one of them."

Fawkes trilled disconsolately, his keening a marked contrast to his cheerful phoenix song. Albus ruffled the bird's feathers softly and continued hoarsely, "I must say I suspected Voldemort had this particular trick up his sleeve long ago; but it wasn't until you came bearing that memory vial that I could be sure it was so."

Dumbledore stepped in front of Fawkes and looked at the bird's beady eyes as if he was trying to read Fawkes' mind. He'd tried in vain to get any hint from the phoenix about the memory vial – which Fawkes had been clutching in his claws - that showed the discussion between Voldemort and one of his Death Eaters; but all Dumbledore's prying had been in vain because the phoenix appeared to be clueless. This particular memory held tantalising clues about where Voldemort planned to hide one of the horcruxes.

Ever since Dumbledore got the memory he'd been searching relentlessly for the horcruxes and had retrieved only one - or rather, Hagrid had surmounted the magical traps and brought it back. Surprisingly the relic was also one of the Deathly Hallows, which Albus intended to leave behind for Harry to help him in his final confrontation with Voldemort if something should happen to him. Last week Albus had stumbled upon another clue that clarified the hints he'd heard in the memory – the location of a cave that Riddle would have used to hide one of his horcruxes. Dumbledore suspected it was one of the Founders' relics.

Dumbledore was startled by the sudden appearance of an amorphous light, Remus' _Patronus._ After hearing the awful news of Harry going to Slytherin Castle to rescue Draco Malfoy - one of Albus' spies - Dumbledore felt he urgently needed the help of the Order. He could not risk Harry's life before his master plan was perfected.

Albus rapidly called Grimmauld Place and was answered by Mundungus Fletcher, who promised to get the others and Floo into the Headmaster's office. Then Dumbledore sent a _Patronus_ message to Minerva McGonagall and Hagrid.

Albus paced back and forth in his office, peering intently at all his shiny magical trinkets. Coincidentally he'd received the memory of the horcruxes a few days after Harry violently destroyed this room, another proof – if he needed one - that the Gryffindor's actions were influenced by Voldemort's sliver of a soul residing in him.

Soon Mundungus appeared in his office – his straggly hair even more unkempt than usual -followed an instant later by Mad-Eye Moody, who stumbled a bit when he came out of the fire. Moody limped towards Albus and said in a growling voice, "What's the matter, Albus? I sent a message to Shacklebolt, he should be here in a minute."

Moody looked around the office, examining it minutely with his magical eye, as if searching for Death Eaters hiding behind the desk. He lifted a whirring contraption from the desk and held it at arm's length. He turned to Dumbledore. "Kingsley was in a meeting with Scrimgeour. I hope he can get the Aurors to help us."

Dumbledore touched the shoulder of his old friend. "I'm afraid young Harry has foolishly gone into the serpent's nest. He has jumped into danger again, trying to rescue his friends."

At that moment Kingsley Shacklebolt came out of the Floo. After he nodded to Dumbledore, he shook the ash off his violet robe; the light of the sconce glinting off his golden earring. Two slim men garbed in Auror robes were right behind him. Turning to Moody, Shacklebolt said in his rumbling baritone voice, "Scrimgeour refused to help us. He has no concept for fighting the Death Eaters. What he's done is pretend to be tough and imprison people like Stan Shunpike!"

Kingsley put his strong arms around the two men that had come with him. "But these two gentlemen heard me talking about our need and offered their help" – he pushed the young men forward, the light falling on the blond hair of one and the dark hair of the other – "they graduated from Hogwarts not so long ago."

Dumbledore nodded when he recognised John Doherty and Alan Swann, two young Hufflepuffs who graduated the year when Cedric Diggory died. Incensed by the death of their dear friend, they'd joined the Aurors and completed the course in record time. They were reputed to be talented Aurors.

The three members of the Order and the young Aurors looked expectantly at Dumbledore. Moody jostled Mundungus. "Dung, you called the other members as I told you?"

Mundungus' shifty eyes looked towards the phoenix as he uneasily replied, "Wiv all these goings on, I forgot. Sorry!"

Albus lifted an eyebrow and shrugged. "We have to rescue Harry from Voldemort, for he is the only hope we have. But there's something that we must not allow Harry to do."

Mad-Eye Moody lifted his silver flask and took a gulp of firewhiskey. He often needed it when dealing with Albus.

Moody looked intently at Dumbledore with his good eye, while his magical one whirled uncontrollably. He smacked his fist against his head, muttering, "Bloody impostor Death Eaters, they can't even treat my eye properly!"

When his magical eye calmed down, Moody continued, "And how do you intend to go to that" – he snorted – "Slytherin castle that I'm sure is fiercely protected with wards?"

Dumbledore looked towards the end of his desk, to the perch where his phoenix looked at them inquiringly. "I'm sure Fawkes will take us to Harry, a Gryffindor in dire need of our assistance."

Albus approached his desk and put his hand on a book lying there. "But whatever we do, we must not kill Voldemort. I want your word on that!"

Mundungus nodded distractedly and gave his word. The two young Hufflepuffs - after Doherty exchanged a concerned glance with his brunet friend, who lifted his eyeglasses and then looked admiringly at the Pensieve and the magical instruments - decided to follow their old Headmaster's directives and nodded also.

Kingsley looked sharply at Mad-Eye; the two Aurors exchanged a wealth of information in that glance, used as they were to reading each other's body language in the field. Kingsley realised they both disagreed with Dumbledore, and he decided to reserve his judgment.

Moody, who'd been silently fuming, exploded. "Are you mad, Dumbledore? What's this about not killing You-Know-Who? I thought that was the whole purpose of the Order!"

Dumbledore used a conciliatory tone. "You must understand, Alastor! If we kill Voldemort he'll just return like he did before. He has the magical means to do that!"

Albus winced, remembering keenly the time when Voldemort possessed Harry - the darkest moment in Albus' life - and the recurrent nightmare he had that Voldemort's evil soul might just migrate to Harry and possess him if Harry was the one that survived their confrontation before they destroyed all the horcruxes. The Prophecy itself strongly hinted at this outcome.

Dumbledore added urgently, "Voldemort might even possess Harry! You must promise me you won't kill Voldemort until the time is right, or young Harry's soul will perish!"

Mad-Eye Moody snorted and took another swig of his firewhiskey. He turned to Dumbledore and growled, "You're barmy, Dumbledore! If You-Know-Who has something that brings him back, why not just keep killing him until he runs out of tricks?"

Moody limped towards the desk and in his anger, he swept his hand over it and the magical instruments fell to the floor with a crashing sound. He turned to face Dumbledore, his magical eye rolling in distress - his face twisted in a ferocious scowl. "You insist Harry is the Chosen One, yet you won't let me or Lupin instruct him! You don't know the Death Eaters as much as I do!"

Mad-Eye rubbed his wooden leg and limped towards the perch where Fawkes was. "I will promise you nothing! I'll help Harry fight You-Know-Who, and if we come out of this alive, I'll train him myself!"

Kingsley bent down to pick up one of the smashed trinkets on the floor.

Moody's gaze swept imperiously around the circular room until he reached Shacklebolt, who stood up regally and nodded his support. The two Aurors would fulfil their duty and try to kill Voldemort, even if Dumbledore objected.

Moody turned to look sceptically at his old friend. "You've failed before, Dumbledore. You don't practice what I say. Remember, Constant Vigilance!"

Mad-Eye wished he had his portable Sneakoscope with him, but it always went off when he was next to Mundungus, so he'd left it inside his magical trunk.

Dumbledore, seeing the combative Auror's refusal to listen to him, decided to keep secret his master plan concerning Harry. If Alastor Moody was so protective of Harry, then he would not look kindly upon Albus' plan to have Harry willingly surrender to Voldemort and let himself be killed after Harry had destroyed all the horcruxes. With Harry dead, Voldemort would be bereft of horcruxes and could easily be killed by another daring student like Neville Longbottom.

Peering at Dumbledore's desk, Moody saw with his magical eye that a silver memory vial was inside the topmost drawer. He noticed it had an etched sigil of a serpent biting its tail. Frowning, Moody decided to investigate it further because it sure looked as if that vial came from a Death Eater.

Moody pretended he'd slipped on the floor and was falling down. He grabbed the drawer to support himself and pulled it out. When he stood up shakily he put his hand inside the drawer and grabbed the memory vial, putting it inside his pocket.

Dumbledore ruefully shook his head when he realised that Remus and Tonks were not rushing into his office; probably both of them had dashed off to Harry's defence. Though how they would pass through the wards that protected Slytherin Castle, he didn't know. Albus sighed in relief when the door opened and Minerva came into the room, Hagrid walking just behind her.

Noticing Moody taking a swig from his hip flask, McGonagall frowned disapprovingly whilst Hagrid greeted eagerly the speccy Auror – Swann had been one of his most enthusiastic students.

Albus motioned for the group to approach Fawkes so they could travel to Slytherin Castle.

* * *

Dobby stood in front of the boys, defiantly facing Bellatrix Lestrange. Bella had approached the group stealthily from the back of the corridor.

When she noticed the dead body of the huge serpent behind the boys, Bellatrix yelled angrily, "You killed my Master's pet!"

Bellatrix vowed to avenge Nagini's death. She intended to herd the boys toward the hall where the Dark Lord waited; but that didn't mean she couldn't have fun with them. The Black witch cackled madly and prepared to kill them, except Harry Potter who was reserved for her master.

When Bella saw her nephew Draco standing next to Harry, holding his hand, she exclaimed, "You broke your Unbreakable Vow, Draco, you should be dead!"

George elbowed Fred, and the twins looked at each other with identical leers. George said, "He hasn't broken it yet..."

"... though he might if Harry..." continued Fred.

"... doesn't put out!" chorused the twins whilst Harry shook his head, wondering what they were talking about.

Draco rolled his eyes at the twins' antics. Then he turned to his aunt, smirking.

"Sorry to disappoint you, auntie – but you don't know as much about Vows as you profess," drawled Draco, his eyes still searching for his wand near Nagini's corpse.

When Bella - mad with anger - cast a dark spell at Draco, it was Harry who threw a shield in front of them. Dobby tried to walk through the shimmering shield and defend them against the crazy Death Eater, but Draco's hand on his shoulder kept him from passing through. _I'll really miss the primadonna elf if he goes and kills himself. Life without Dobby's theatrics is too dim to contemplate_ , thought Draco melodramatically.

The twins tugged Harry's and Draco's robes when they saw who was behind Bellatrix. Fenrir Greyback had followed Lestrange when she ran from the hall. Greyback licked his lips at the thought of feasting on those luscious young bodies.

* * *

Remus frowned when he saw where they'd arrived. This was some kind of torture room. There were all kinds of spiky and ominous metal contraptions around. The walls were festooned with chains, and a rickety table groaned under the weight of several maces. _Exactly the place where Voldemort would bring the young people to get initiated,_ thought Remus disgustedly.

As if they had planned it from the start, Blaise took a position next to Pansy and Tonks, whilst Cho, Parvati and the two Gryffindors approached Remus. Narcissa dashed out of the room, her blond hair swirling around her head - her mind traitorously picturing the broken body of Draco,

Pansy held Tonks' hand tentatively and said, "My father told me the way to You-Know-Who's throne."

The Slytherin girl looked at Tonks' face; seeing Bellatrix' visage grinning at her without her usual madness lurking just beneath, Pansy barely repressed her shudder. "We will go there." She bent down to pick two Death Eater masks and passed one to Blaise. She motioned for the black Slytherin to go first and Tonks – essaying a cruel smirk to perfect her Bellatrix persona – walked just behind her.

* * *

Bellatrix advanced imperiously on the students, Greyback right behind her. Harry cast a spell easily evaded by the shaggy and unkempt werewolf. Taking advantage of the moment - and knowing that two of the boys did not have wands - Bellatrix shot a spell at George that threw him to the floor, leaving him motionless. Harry, Draco and Fred looked at George's unmoving body with despair. Exploiting Harry's consternation, Bellatrix cast _Expelliarmus_ and divested Harry of his wand.

Mindful of the Dark Lord's orders, Bellatrix knew she could not kill Harry Potter, but she could play with him.

"Liked my spell, ickle Harry? It's the same one I used on your godfather" - Bellatrix sashayed towards the horrified boys – "should keep the blood-traitor immobilised till I lift it."

Bellatrix turned exaggeratedly to the left and right, enjoying her cruel mockery of Harry Potter. "Pity there's no Veil around when you need it!"

Greyback growled and Harry turned to him, scowling fiercely. Bellatrix threw the same spell against Harry – so intent was Harry on revenge that he didn't see it and it was only Draco throwing himself in front of him that protected him.

Harry saw Draco's body fall to the floor and snarled ferociously, casting a wandless spell and throwing Bellatrix against the wall. He ran towards her but Greyback moved to intercept him. If Bellatrix still obeyed the Dark Lord's orders, bloodlust and the urge to maim sang in Greyback's ears, telling him he should bite these boys.

* * *

Voldemort sat on his throne, waiting impatiently for the moment when Harry Potter should arrive. He looked around for his favourite, and when he couldn't find Bella he decided to _Crucio_ her for disobeying his orders – until he saw her approaching from the other end of the hall, two of his Death Eaters behind her.

Voldemort frowned when he noticed Bellatrix stumbling over a small stone on the floor next to the carcass of the dragon. Time in Azkaban had not been kind to her - or she'd cast too many _Crucios_ and it was impairing her mind. He anxiously tapped his claw-like fingers against the golden throne.

"Where were you, Bella?" asked Voldemort impatiently.

"I was looking for… Harry Potter, wasn't I?" said Bellatrix tentatively.

Severus unobtrusively approached the fake Bellatrix, sighing inwardly at the oblivious Death Eaters and their Lord. _These fools don't realise that this isn't their Bella. Since when does she stumble? And if Tonks is here, that means that the werewolf is not far behind. This should be interesting, indeed,_ thought Severus whilst he toyed with the Portkey inside his robes.

"I told you all that I" – Voldemort pointed a bony finger at his thin chest –"must be the one to vanquish Potter!"

The Dark Lord stood up and advanced on Bellatrix, intending to call Dolohov and the other Death Eaters so they could witness his victory. He noticed Bellatrix' sweating face and he snorted, thinking that the strain of being so near Harry Potter and not killing him was slowly unhinging his Bella.

Voldemort recalled fondly the moment of his resurrection in the graveyard. And it was with a sense of symmetry – of the past reaching to the future and closing the circle triumphantly - that he changed course and moved towards Pettigrew, and used Wormtail's Dark Mark to call the other Death Eaters to his side.

* * *

Greyback launched himself towards Harry, but he was thrown back by a spell cast by Remus, who ran towards the boys. Remus' learning and skill prevailed against the other werewolf, though barely.

Bellatrix stood up, wincing from the hit she'd taken against the stone wall. She trained her wand on Harry, but she was disarmed by an unlikely opponent. "Bitch!" yelled Narcissa, carelessly moving her wand next to her hip after having cast _Expelliarmus_. Narcissa walked regally like a Viking woman out to avenge her son. She'd come from an entrance hidden behind a tapestry that only she knew about.

Sneering at her elder sister, Narcissa cast a disfiguring spell on Bella's face, who yelped and ran back towards her master. Bella would get reinforcements and they all would kill Potter and her traitorous sister and whelp of a son.

Ron and Hermione were on the corner of the corridor, wanting to join the fray but unable to approach because the others took up the narrow passage. While they were waiting, Cho walked to the nearby corridor, where the stairs could lead them out. Parvati walked behind her. Approaching the stairs, Cho peered upward, casting a spell to light that space. She saw the stairs ended in a room whose wall had some stewpots.

Parvati lagged behind. She sat on a wood chair in the corridor, bending down and tugging up the hem of her sari. She sighed when it proved fruitless and swished her wand, effectively shortening the fabric. Feeling like a wallflower, a feeling she knew well from the Ball where Ron and Harry - the prats - had refused to dance, Parvati stood up and hurried to catch up with Cho. In the back of her mind Parvati wondered about Voldemort's odd sense of style, putting a beautiful chair near a torture room.

When a wizened face peered down from the room above, Cho frowned and cast a stinging hex upwards; the Death Eater yelped and then cast Crucio downward. She ducked and evaded the spell as Parvati cast a _Protego_ shield in front of them. Cho looked upwards and saw more Death Eaters congregating in the room that appeared to be the kitchen.

When Bellatrix retreated and Greyback realised he faced strong opposition, he howled angrily and turned back to fetch reinforcements. Remus knew that the noise would attract the other Death Eaters. They barely had a chance to defend themselves in the narrow space of the corridor, so he turned to the students and shouted, "Run!" He ran in the opposite direction, trying to see if there was a way out of the dungeons.

Meanwhile, Narcissa walked towards the boys and looked down at Draco's and George's unmoving bodies. Realising that her mad sister had used a spell that she knew well, Narcissa elegantly moved her wand and said the words to undo it. Fortunately it was a spell that her aunt Walburga had taught to all the Black girls.

She helped her son stand up, and Fred helped George. The twins smirked at each other and Fred kicked Nagini's body, wondering if they could pick it up later and use it as an ingredient for new products.

Narcissa noticed her son's hawthorn wand lying on the floor next to Nagini's body. When Draco fell he collided with the serpent's body and nudged it so that his wand was visible. Narcissa picked it up gingerly and handed it to her son.

"I trust this forlorn wand belongs to you, Dragon," drawled Narcissa, winking at the Slytherin.

Draco blushed and grabbed it. _Trust Mom to save me and scold me gently at the same time,_ thought Draco bashfully.

Harry and Draco exchanged worried glances whilst Narcissa pushed both boys forward, urging them to move. She, like Remus, knew they were sitting ducks if they were caught in the passage, so she wanted them to run. Narcissa realised with foreboding that the only way out led through the hall of the castle, this was only confirmed when Cho and Parvati came up to the group and indicated that the other way that led to the kitchens was guarded by Death Eaters.

Remus returned from scouting the nearby corridors. No exit was visible, but he'd picked Harry's wand lying near the wall. He grabbed Harry's shoulder and gave him back the wand, eyeing the group imperiously. "Didn't you hear me? Run!"

* * *

Bellatrix and Fenrir bustled into the hall, startling the Death Eaters. Voldemort looked incredulous at the newcomers, and then turned to smirk at Bellatrix near him.

Tonks left the Dark Lord's side and hurried to meet the arriving pair, Severus close behind her. The Potions Master scowled as he considered how to use his Portkey - and whether he should remain a spy when the battle that would decide the war appeared to be near at hand.

"Who are you, anyway?" said fake Bellatrix.

Bellatrix motioned for Fenrir to approach. "Let's see if you are indeed who you claim to be!" said Lestrange indignantly. She pointed imperiously to the werewolf. " _Crucio_ him!"

Tonks raised her wand tentatively, but she didn't have to do anything; for at this moment, the students with Remus and Narcissa burst into the room– and the Death Eaters convoked by Voldemort started Apparating into the hall.

When several Death Eaters shot spells at the students - stopped by shields cast by Narcissa and Remus – Voldemort shouted angrily, "Stop!"

The Dark Lord advanced menacingly towards Harry, his robes trailing behind him, his gait as sinuous as that of a snake.

"Well, Harry Potter, we meet again," rasped the Dark Lord.

Harry took firm strides forward and prepared to duel with Voldemort, ready to end this nightmare once and for all.

Voldemort spread his arms and motioned to the hall full of Death Eaters, with more Apparating every few seconds. "You are alone against my might, Potter!"

Draco advanced slowly towards Harry and touched his shoulder. "Harry's not alone! I'm with him!"

Voldemort leered at the Seekers. "It surprises me to see you next to your" – Voldemort scrunched his face disgustedly, an effect that looked a bit comical taking into account his missing nose –"fellow fag, Malfoy. But no matter."

The Dark Lord took two steps towards the boys and rasped, "I have seen inside your heart, Harry Potter – and it is mine!" He smirked triumphantly at Harry.

 _Bloody git! Not only is Voldemort a raging homophobe, now he's also a cardiologist,_ thought Harry sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

It was then that Parvati stepped next to the Seekers and said loudly, "I'll fight for Harry."

Cho Chang walked a bit timidly to stand next to the Seekers and Parvati, adding, "Yeah! I'll fight with them too!"

Ron rushed to his friend's side, and looking defiantly at the assembled Death Eaters and their leader, announced proudly, "This Gryffindor will fight to the death for Harry!"

Hermione was not far behind him. She just glared at Bellatrix and, mentally cataloguing her spells, said softly, "I'm always with Harry!"

Tonks meanwhile had returned to her usual features and was sidling next to Remus, her hair turned violet.

Hermione straightened Ron's robes and mumbled, "Really, Ron! Do you have to be so melodramatic?"

Ron exploded; he'd had enough of his better half pestering him all the time; he spread his arms, unmindful of the coming confrontation. "Bollocks! Even on the face of our death you keep nagging, Mione!"

Not to be outdone by the feuding Gryffindors, Blaise threw his mask to the floor and took his place next to his childhood friend, Ron. Pansy nodded and with studied nonchalance, stepped next to Parvati. When Patil glared at the masked person next to her, Pansy shrugged and let her mask fall to the floor.

The students shifted nervously and took one or two steps from each other, slowly forming a ring and facing the Death Eaters, who were held in check by Voldemort's rigid orders concerning his confrontation with Harry Potter.

George and Fred used the moment when all the attention was focused on the group of students and approached two giggling Death Eaters. George kneed Amycus Carrow and grabbed his wand while Fred smartly tapped Alecto Carrow's shoulder and hit the stocky witch, grabbing her wand.

It was then that a bright flash in the middle of the hall announced the arrival of Dumbledore and his group.

Cho frowned when he saw a balding man trying to skulk out of the hall. Harry had told him about the traitor who killed her dear Cedric. So filled with an overwhelming sense of justice, she hurled a spell at Pettigrew, shouting, "For Cedric and Hogwarts!"

And the battle was joined.

The students around Harry tightened their defensive ring, with Harry at the northernmost position facing Voldemort.

Dumbledore looked at the hall, immediately noting Harry's determined stance. He prayed that he could avoid Voldemort's death and the subsequent possession of his favourite pupil.

Kingsley Shacklebolt dropped to the floor to avoid an incoming spell; he swiftly rolled to the left and started casting spells. The other Aurors advanced on the Death Eaters, raining mayhem on the surprised followers of the Dark Lord, who were still waiting orders from Voldemort. Mad-Eye was flanked by Doherty and Swann.

Dobby was trying to protect Harry Potter and his friends, and when Yaxley loomed ominously near the group, Dobby threw him far away with a snap of his fingers, taking care only to maim and hurt, not to kill. He also stopped a curse from Voldemort.

Minerva and Hagrid shared a brief glance and spread to both sides of the ring of students, facing East and West. Narcissa and Remus cast damaging spells at the Death Eaters, protecting the South flank of the students. Though they were outnumbered, the side of the Light fought effectively, seizing the advantage granted by Dumbledore's sudden arrival.

Harry had his attention divided between several Death Eaters that tried to curse him and Voldemort. As the beams of the spells shot everywhere, his hair shined brightly, ruffled by the wind from the more exotic curses. He had one leg forward and his wand arm moved with utmost precision.

George and Fred battled ferociously, next to Tonks; the twins were uplifted by their victory over the writhing snake. In the midst of battle, Fred chanced to look at Mad-Eye's ferocious struggle, while George threw a spell at Rabastan, who was trying to encroach on Kingsley. George noted with approval Kingsley's economic and deadly moves.

Voldemort shot a deadly spell at Harry which would have cut off his head, _'Decapitare,'_ but it was stopped by Draco's shield. Voldemort intended to cast another curse at the students, but he was distracted by Fred shouting, "Voldie, we killed your snake!"

Moody followed Fred's gaze, nodding approvingly when he saw the students arrayed around Harry, protecting him during the confrontation. Fenrir Greyback growled and approached the famed Auror, casting a nonverbal spell that threw Swann – who was standing on the werewolf's way - on his back and broke his glasses. Moody turned to face Fenrir, his back protected by Dumbledore.

Mundungus eyed the ongoing confrontation fearfully and slid towards the Floo that was near the carcass of the dragon. But Dolohov, who was fighting with Remus and winning, noticed Dung approaching the Floo and cast the Killing Curse at the member of the Order, killing him. Remus took the respite afforded by Dolohov's thirst for blood and cast _Adagissimo_ at the Death Eater. Once done with that threat, he turned and faced Rodolphus Lestrange.

Bellatrix tried to approach Voldemort, but her path was impeded by her relatives, Narcissa and Tonks. The two women exchanged a wry smirk and taunted Bellatrix with seemingly innocuous spells. Bella had one eye shut and her jaw had grown noticeably, thanks to Narcissa's spell.

"Who's coddled now, Bella?" taunted Narcissa, her hair flowing freely as she swirled around evading the Death Eater's curses with the grace of an elf princess.

* * *

As the battle was fought ferociously on all sides, Voldemort was distracted; his spells were thwarted by the students and the elf. He was raging mad when he realised the uppity brats had killed his beloved Nagini - one of his horcruxes. And Harry seized the moment, remembering the incantation he'd read about in the replacement book that was left instead of his stolen one. The Gryffindor trained his wand on Voldemort.

Harry made a slashing movement with his wand. Filled with anger for the deaths Voldemort had caused - his parents foremost in his mind, followed by Cedric and Sirius - he shouted, _"Sectumsempra!"_

The flashing light hit Voldemort in the chest and he fell down. The combatants paused in their struggle and all eyes turned towards the writhing Dark Lord on the floor and Harry, who walked with measured steps towards the Dark Lord, intent on finishing him for good.

Rodolphus paused in his struggle with Remus and tried to curse Harry, but he was stopped by Parvati deftly throwing him backwards. Bellatrix rushed to her master's aid. Tonks threw her against the carcass of the dragon, smirking wickedly.

Amycus Carrow, brandishing a replacement wand, tried to curse Harry. Ron stopped him with a spell Molly had taught him to get rid of the stubborn garden gnomes. Ron shouted, _'Iacium!'_ with a deft swish of his wand and the Death Eater was thrown next to the wall.

While the students were distracted defending Harry, Dumbledore had narrowed his eyes and cast _Immobulus_ at Harry.

Though his back was turned to the Headmaster, Moody watched Dumbledore's actions through his magical eye. Moody turned to face his old friend and then, with an exact flick of his wrist, he cast Expelliarmus at Dumbledore, followed rapidly by _Immobulus._

McGonagall saw this suspicious activity with the corner of her eyes. She recalled the time when Crouch Jr. impersonated Moody, and the resulting debacle when Voldemort was resurrected and Cedric killed; she thought that Moody had been supplanted again by a Death Eater, which would explain why he attacked the Headmaster – and why he kept drinking from his hip flask. She swiftly disarmed Moody, who fell to the floor and was prey to the attacks of the Death Eaters, defended only by Swann and Doherty, the Hufflepuff Aurors.

But then Minerva was hit by two simultaneous _Expelliarmus_ cast by Fred - who'd watched his old Head of House disarm his favourite Auror with narrowed eyes - and a student from the group around Harry. She twisted in the air and would have fallen, but Kingsley grabbed her elbow, preventing it.

Hagrid cried with anguish when he saw Harry fall to the floor, victim of Dumbledore's spell. He hurriedly threw aside the two Death Eaters he'd been fighting and rushed to Harry's aid, as the students broke their formation and surrounded Harry, Draco foremost among them.

Snape took advantage of the surprise amongst the Death Eaters and the Order and approached the writhing and moaning Voldemort. Looking disdainfully at the man that dared call himself his master, Severus levelled his wand and, mustering the hate he felt for Voldemort, cast _Avada Kedavra_ on the prone Dark Lord.

A petrified Albus watched helplessly with horror and anguish as a black cloud lifted itself from the dead body of Tom Riddle and shot towards the immobile Harry.

 


	15. The man who walked through wards

 

The combatants paused in their fierce struggle and turned to look at Voldemort, because the sense of dread and hate accompanying his death was felt by everyone in the hall. There was a surreal atmosphere in the tableau presented by the suddenly immobile dark wizards and the side of the Light.

The seasoned Death Eaters, the Aurors and the students, they all watched this new development - the dark wizards clutching the hope that their Lord would be resurrected again. Hadn't Voldemort always insisted that he was immortal? A fact that was borne out by the fact that he'd indeed been resurrected on the cemetery.

Bellatrix stood up from the place next to the carcass of the dragon where she'd been pushed by Tonks. She smirked wickedly; she was sure that her dread Lord would return again, as he'd done before; but she was also raging mad that the Dark Lord had been killed. She shook her head - ringlets of her dark hair falling around her eyes - and considered the bitter betrayal of her family. Her little sister Narcissa had abandoned the lofty ideals they'd once shared, and her nephew Draco had engineered and precipitated this debacle. Regarding her mongrel niece Tonks, it went without saying that she didn't deserve to live, and Bellatrix intended to ruthlessly correct this small fact.

McGonagall stepped away from Shacklebolt and rushed to the group of students surrounding Harry. Swann, Doherty and Shacklebolt paused in their fight against the Death Eaters, following the writhing black vapour with dread. Could it be that the fight was not over, that Voldemort would return again? Was he truly indestructible?

When he saw the ominous black cloud rising from the Dark Lord's body, Draco did the first thing he thought of, determined to protect Harry at all costs. Voldemort obviously had it in for Harry, even in death. Draco threw himself over the prone form of his lover, his blond hair contrasting sharply with Harry's dark mop in the bright light that had been cast by Antonin Dolohov to illuminate the battle. The eerie shadows of the combatants moved jerkily as if a cursed puppeteer pulled their strings.

After Harry fell, his body rolled sideways due to the momentum of his fall, thus the Gryffindor was able to see part of the confrontation. In his narrowed field of vision, Harry had seen the writhing body of Voldemort and the blood that seeped copiously from his robes; the only thing distinguishing it on the dirty stone floor of the hall was the vapour that rose from the cursed liquid.

If Harry could have smirked, he would have done so – especially when his sarcastic potions teacher walked up to the Dark Lord and finished him off with gusto.

Harry saw the dark cloud rising from the dead body of Voldemort. It was exactly like the one that was ejected from Quirrell's rapidly crumbling body after he was burned to cinders when Harry grabbed him to prevent him from getting the Philosopher's Stone. Harry was unable to see anything more because Draco's body covered him, all he saw was Draco's worried face; and in that terrible moment, stormy grey eyes met viridian ones.

There was so much emotion conveyed in that timeless moment: abiding love, the kind that survives against all odds and a shared defiance that shouted rebellion to the world - all shrouded in heartbreaking anguish.

Draco held the hope that if Voldemort's spirit wanted to possess a new body, Draco would be the one chosen, for he could not bear the thought of losing Harry. After all they'd gone through, after their bitter years of rivalry and the brief moment in the sun when they'd come together despite all odds – their love could not end like this, with Voldemort possessing Harry's body.

Draco would not allow any harm to this Harry that understood him and cared for him, this Harry that loved him boundlessly at last. And if Voldemort possessed Draco, he would go into that hellish journey with the consolation that he'd spared Harry that awful fate.

Hagrid ran towards the downed Harry, throwing aside with ease the Death Eaters he was fighting, Theophilus Nott and Charles Crabbe. His dark eyes followed the rapidly moving cloud as it shot towards Harry and Draco.

Hagrid was of a mind to follow Draco's example and throw himself upon the two prostrate boys, but before he could do so, the dark vapour, which writhed and moved as if it was a living, deadly thing, reached and covered the boys – and it passed through them, continuing its travel, disappearing finally through the southern wall of the hall.

* * *

Draco grunted when Blaise and Ron fell upon him and Harry.

"Geroff me!" exclaimed the blond as the battle started again around them.

Hermione shared a gaze with Parvati that conveyed impatience with the boys' antics whilst she deftly counteracted a spell cast by Alecto Carrow.

Cho barely dodged a curse cast by Dolohov, but she moved into the path of a curse cast by Rodolphus. Cho cried out; the spell hurt terribly, feeling like molten lava on her chest. Parvati cast _Anteoculatia_ on the Death Eater and kept Cho safe from further attacks. The antlers growing on Rodolphus' forehead might have been intended by Parvati as a snarky comment on the Voldemort-Bella-Rodolphus triangle. At any rate, they kept the dark wizard from attacking Cho.

Meanwhile Doherty grabbed a wand on the floor and threw it in Moody's direction. The grizzled Auror caught the wand and growled, nodding to the young Auror and swiftly turning around. Moody had seen with his magical eye Thorfinn Rowle, one of the Death Eaters convoked by Voldemort so they could witness his victory over Potter, now instead a bystander in the Dark Lord's death. Before Rowle - who with his white hair and chiseled features strongly resembled Draco - could curse him, Moody swished the strange wand, intent on transforming the Death Eater into a snake. But the wand didn't agree with Moody and Rowle turned instead into a shrew.

Severus Snape, after having dealt so deadly a blow against his former master, decided to join the fray openly on the side of the Light. The assembled Death Eaters witnessed his prompt dispatching of their master, so they obviously knew he was on Dumbledore's side. Reasoning thus, Severus moved into the battle, his robes billowing wildly around him as he employed the spells he'd invented whose countercurse only he knew.

Moody whirled around and cast a spell on Alecto Carrow, noting that the Death Eaters didn't fight as ferociously as before. Their usual bloodthirsty mood appeared to have taken a dive like their dead master. Moody's magical eye proved invaluable at this moment, giving him the unique advantage of detecting incoming attacks even if they tried to sneak upon his back. Moody fought with a certain flair that came from his long experience battling Death Eaters.

George Weasley had nearly fallen when his left foot slipped on something. He bent down and his fingers touched something furry. Grinning, the redhead grabbed the invisible fabric. He stood up and sauntered to the immobile Headmaster, ducking to avoid an incoming spell. George wrapped the Invisibility Cloak over Dumbledore, thus allowing the aged Headmaster to observe at his leisure the denouement of the battle.

George grimly shook his head, he'd watched when the barmy old coot cast a spell on Harry that left him vulnerable to the Death Eaters - that was something that he would not forget or forgive. Already visions of pranks to be played on Dumbledore were dancing in his devious mind, but first there was the small matter of staying alive. George threw himself and rolled sideways to avoid a spell cast by Rodolphus Lestrange, grimacing when he the floor touched his swollen elbow. He crouched and launched a spell of his own.

Fred Weasley made his way to Shacklebolt, dodging spells left and right – his blood dancing with adrenaline, his face flush with the excitement and danger of the battle. The bandage Draco had conjured earlier was slipping from his head and it partially obscured the vision of his left eye, giving him the look of a rakish pirate. Noticing a familiar stick on his way, he bent down and picked up McGonagall's wand. He'd recognise it anywhere for it was the accursed wand that foiled too many of their genial pranks. Fred dodged a green beam and counteracted with a careless _Entomorphis_. Fred chanced to look in the direction of Moody transforming a blond wizard into a furry small mammal. _Trust Mad-Eye to never change,_ thought Fred admiringly.

Fred held the wand with a frowning mien, recalling his former Head of House when she attacked Mad-Eye for no reason. He wondered if McGonagall was sharing too much sherry with Trelawney back at Hogwarts as he sauntered towards the Head of Gryffindor.

Minerva scowled fiercely at her former pupil, clad in a pink robe. Perhaps Granger's _unseemly_ behaviour was contagious? The frown didn't abate when Fred presented her with her wand.

In the heat of the battle, a small brown rodent scurried unobtrusively back and forth, evading the feet of the fighters, anxiously seeking a way out of the melee. Not even Remus noticed his traitorous friend, busy as he was battling both Fenrir Greyback and Antonin Dolohov. Besides, Remus' extraordinarily acute sense of smell was temporarily out of commission because the cloying scent of the dragon carcass seemingly pervaded the entire castle.

The rogue werewolf was very powerful; his ability to cast wandless spells meant that he was an effective warrior even without a wand. For all of Remus' skill - his trove of arcane spells gathered on his long journeys all over the world – he could hardly battle simultaneously such ruthless Death Eaters as Greyback and Dolohov.

Just when Fenrir was about to attack him, he was stopped by _Exardesco,_ cast by a smirking Severus. The Potions Master just shook his head, muttering sarcastically, "Always disliked this particular mutt!"

Fenrir's cheeks started to swell alarmingly, along with his arms and legs.

Remus rolled his eyes and turned to face Dolohov, all his considerable ingenuity now directed towards the bearded Death Eater.

* * *

Pansy and Hermione found themselves fighting side by side. When Pansy faced the wrath of her father - who was one of the newly arrived Death Eaters - she paused, knowing that she would be unable to kill him or fight him effectively at all. It was Hermione who dealt with Parkinson, casting _Confundus_ on him.

Though the Death Eaters were in the majority, most of them fought wearily after they witnessed the death of Voldemort. It was only the knowledge that Slytherin Castle was surrounded by impenetrable wards that kept them there; else they would have fled after the Dark Lord's death.

Harry's side was winning the battle, fuelled by the sweet scent of victory near at hand. They knew that Voldemort was dead, and if their leaders were momentarily incapacitated – Harry on the floor in the bottom of the dog pile, and Dumbledore invisible to everyone – that only gave them more incentive to fight bravely.

* * *

Draco whispered, _'Finite incantatem!'_ and Harry was freed from the spell cast by Dumbledore.

"Stand up, you wankers!" whispered Draco and heaved upwards.

"You're crushing" - grunted Draco, his voice cracking under the weight of Blaise and Ron – "Harry!"

Draco twisted as much as he could; finally Blaise got the hint and rolled sideways. Ron followed the Slytherin a moment later.

The blond wheezed and stood up, grabbing Harry's hand and pulling him upright whilst Pansy and Hermione shared a grumpy look. The girls protected them from the increasingly distraught but still ferocious Death Eaters.

Harry clutched his chest with his left hand and he ducked to avoid a purple beam from a Death Eater.

Hagrid patted Harry's head with his huge hand. Then he also stroked softly Draco's head as the blond scowled at him. Whilst the half-giant and Harry were basking in each other´s company, Draco made a slashing movement with his wand, deflecting a spell cast by Yaxley.

Meanwhile Bellatrix, her blood curdling at the sight of her dead Master, had disarmed Tonks and used her usual spell to held her immobile. She wanted to have her revenge against these family traitors who played a part in killing her Master.

Remus' heart missed a beat when he saw his wife lying immobile on the floor, about to be killed by Bellatrix Lestrange. He was still battling Dolohov, but he moved his wand exactly in Tonks' direction and muttered softly, _'Maya.'_

The invisible beam of the spell reached Tonks and cast a cloak of illusions around her; so instead of seeing her niece, Bellatrix saw a wing of the dead dragon on the floor.

Realising that someone had deprived her of her victim, an enraged Bellatrix turned to see her traitorous little sister standing next to the unspeakable Harry Potter. Bellatrix cast _Decapitare,_ which was reflected by Narcissa's shield and hit Rodolphus Lestrange instead; the spell severed his head, still adorned with antlers.

The fight stopped momentarily when the combatants heard the mad shriek coming from Bellatrix when she realised that her husband was dead. Not that she'd ever had any deep feelings for Rodolphus; she'd married him just to fulfil the pureblood ideals of her family. But it was humiliating that Rodolphus was killed as a result of her traitorous sister Cissy.

Bellatrix exchanged a furious glance with Dolohov and Yaxley and the three Death Eaters, who were amongst Voldemort's inner circle, launched simultaneous dark curses on Draco and Harry.

When Narcissa saw her sister, she knew that Bella was resolved to extract bloody revenge; she hastily moved her wand in a sweeping movement, throwing a _Protego_ shield in front of her son.

Draco saw her aunt's murderous expression and hurriedly cast a shield on Harry, as did Hermione.

The result of the three spells crashing against the three interconnecting shields was deafening – the magical shock spread outwards and threw the persons outside the shields several feet away. The energy ball followed a path that led it to Voldemort's golden throne. The chair flew away and crashed against Rabastan, who was fighting Swann. The Hufflepuff Auror had been at great disadvantage because of his impaired vision, but the throne hitting Rabastan allowed him to immobilise the Death Eater and continue the battle - albeit nearsightedly.

Bellatrix, undaunted, stood up and cast another spell at Draco, shrieking, "Traitor! It's your bloody fault!"

Narcissa hastened to Draco's side, intent on protecting her son at all costs, even if she had to eliminate her older sister.

It was Harry who cast a shield around them and the spell bounced.

As the battle raged all around them, the flashing lights of the spells hurled in every side illuminated Bella's face and lent it the inhuman qualities of a magical beast intent on wreaking havoc. The planes of her face were cast in sharp relief, and her tangled locks looked indeed like a nest of awakening serpents. Her eyes shined with inner madness, and her movements were efficient and intelligent one moment, and jerky the next.

Bellatrix smirked; she was not Voldemort's favourite for nothing. She took a sharp dagger from inside her robes and threw it at the boys, not caring whether she killed Harry or her traitorous nephew – they were equally worthless in her skewed view. She knew that their shields would stop the spells she could cast, but they were useless against her dagger, magically cured by the Dark Lord.

Harry saw the dagger hurtling towards them and hurriedly cast another shield, hoping it would stop the deadly instrument.

Dobby was on Harry's left side. The elf watched the shiny lethal object and snapped his fingers, willing to move the boys out of the accursed castle.

Narcissa moved towards her son, trying to put herself in the dagger's path, because she was certain that her older sister had many tricks up her sleeve.

Remus had reached the boys in the mayhem of the battle and he tried to cast the time-slowing spell; but he needed at least two seconds to call up the imagery of slow music. Meanwhile the dagger continued its inexorable path, dictated by physics and hate, towards Draco's chest.

In the intermittent light of the many-coloured spells flying around the hall, Draco's blond hair appeared to have many shades - his robes were tattered and grimy, his stance tired. Yet Draco faced the threat resolutely and did not despair, casting at the last moment a special shield Lucius had taught him, back in the days when his father was not so obsessed with pleasing Voldemort and had the time and leisure to spend doting on Draco.

The dagger was five feet away when an intense glow emanated from Dobby.

Pansy paused in her struggle against Pius Thicknesse. The _imperiused_ Ministry employee was fighting a mental battle against the magical shackles imposed by Dolohov, and he wasn't fighting as efficiently or deadly as the _Imperius_ insisted. So Pansy had a moment to watch the scene in despair.

Ron had dodged an attack by Alecto Carrow when he noticed the glow near him, he only had time to turn his head and watch helplessly what unfolded scant feet away from him.

Albus Dumbledore watched the boys in despair, unable to act or help his favourite student in any way. He was trapped by the spell Moody cast on him, hidden safely beneath the Invisibility Cloak – knowing that he had been wrong and Voldemort had not possessed Harry. Though that dark cloud hinted that Tom Riddle's soul remained firmly embedded in the physical plane, tugged by his Horcruxes.

The glow enveloped Draco and Harry as the dagger held its course, now three feet away from Draco.

Blaise stood next to Parvati, Cho's prone body between them. The Slytherin and the Gryffindor ably defended themselves as Parvati threw an anxious glance at Cho. The Ravenclaw was writhing on the floor, bleeding though not profusely. Blaise ducked to avoid the red beam of a spell cast by a Death Eater he didn't recognise. As he stood up he turned to the right and noticed the bright glow enveloping his best friend, there was nothing he could do but watch in misery, as long as the brief respite in the battle allowed.

As the dagger was two feet from Draco, the light enveloped Narcissa and Remus, and the group started to disappear, Dobby first.

Barely noticed by the participants, a brown rat with a silver paw zigzagged crazily across the hall, eagerly seeking the sanctuary of the stairs and the dungeons beneath. There was urgency to the rodent's race, because he was pursued ruthlessly by an orange blur that passed near Hermione.

Hogwart's top student had fought efficiently, throwing spells right and left. There were two particular ones she'd read about while researching about the nature of time in her quest to save Harry: _Provectus_ and _Caecus temporis_ – the one caused a person to temporarily become old, the other negated the time sense of the recipient. Hermione had used the first effectively to fight Amycus Carrow, but the second didn't work as she thought it would. Her attention had been fixed on Fenrir Greyback, who wandlessly threw Swann against the upturned golden throne. The werewolf slavered as he pounced on the downed Auror, intending to bite him.

Narcissa and Remus disappeared, and only Harry and Draco remained in the hall, their shapes becoming increasingly indistinct as the dagger was only inches away from Draco.

Hermione muttered, ' _Provectus!'_ The spell she used temporarily aged Greyback until he became a doddering old wolf.

When she noticed the orange blur, Hermione barely had time to wonder what Crookshanks was doing here, or where the ginger cat had come from. Following her cat's frantic pace, she noticed the glow enveloping the boys.

Hermione acted reflexively; with a sweeping movement of her wand directed towards Harry, she cast the first spell she thought of.

The beam arched towards the boys; but before Hermione's spell reached them, Harry and Draco disappeared – together with Bellatrix' deadly weapon.

In a towering rage, Pansy cast a curse at Bellatrix; but the Black witch moved aside, evading the beam whilst she cackled madly. Having done her evil work, Bellatrix ran to the Floo that was next to the dragon's carcass and disappeared in a flash of green light. Alecto Carrow, who was rapidly losing her battle with Moody, followed Bella's example. She ran towards the Floo, diving and disappearing as she giggled insanely.

The other Death Eaters, realising that the Floo network was open, fought a rearward action and withdrew from Slytherin Castle one at a time.

* * *

Dobby willed them far away, but his magic was no match for Voldemort's wards and the group reappeared in the dungeon where the splinters of the destroyed cabinet littered the floor.

When Harry could see after the light disappeared, he noticed Draco falling to the floor, with the handle of the dagger sticking out of his chest.

Harry moaned in anguish, but it went unheard due to Narcissa's screams. She held Draco's left arm, ameliorating his fall.

Narcissa crouched next to Draco and held him, exchanging a horrified glance with Remus. There was nothing she could do about the weapon, it required a Healer. But Poppy was at Hogwarts, and St. Mungo's seemed very far – an impenetrable magical ward away.

Harry rubbed his hands in despair and touched Draco's cheek with his right hand. He turned to look at Narcissa and asked, "What'll we do?"

Dobby wrung his hands, chastising himself for failing to disappear on time.

Narcissa tried to remember spells that would help Draco, but she only knew minor healing spells, such that were necessary to heal of the wounds of an active and high-spirited young wizard. She sat on the dirty floor and held Draco against her legs, so he was propped up and had less difficulty breathing.

Harry looked at Remus and asked brokenly, "Won't you help him?"

Remus crouched next to Draco, trying to think of a spell that could help the Slytherin. Unfortunately, the DADA teacher specialised in defensive spells, and he was not good with healing spells. When the Marauders were together, it had always been Lily the one who took it upon herself to research those spells.

Harry moaned when he saw blood seeping through Draco's lips. He felt so useless, so powerless. Why didn't he have a Time-Turner so he could go back in time and avoid his boyfriend getting so horribly hurt?

Harry gazed upward and noticed a leaf slowly floating down. In that torturous instant out of his deepest nightmares - his mind desperately trying to shy away from the bitter reality of his love dying in front of him - Harry wondered if the leaf was an ingredient in a potion.

Draco wheezed, the trickle of blood coming from his lips growing thicker. His eyes had been closed, but then he opened them – and it tore Harry's heart that Draco's vibrant and stormy grey eyes were now almost glassy.

Just then, a man sauntered into the dungeon, his entrance unnoticed at first. The man wore a white robe and his hair was also white; his porcelain skin wrinkled as old parchment. The only note of colour about him were the dark eyeglasses he wore, their surface glinting with the dim light of the sole sconce – the light that had survived the heated battle of the boys against the serpent.

Narcissa looked blindly to the newcomer, lifting her arms in supplication. At that moment, it didn't matter to her who was the man, her only thoughts concerned the health of her son, and she would do anything so Draco would survive. Yet in the innermost recesses of her mind, she had a strong feeling of déjà vu, it felt as though she'd met the man many times before.

Harry followed Narcissa's gaze and recognised his benefactor, the old man that had started it all - the one that gave him the chance to start again with Draco. Harry also looked beseechingly at the old man, hoping that he could perform a miracle once again and save his Dragon.

Time seemed to move in a slow cadence befitting the gravity of the moment; it felt disjointed, disconnected - like the battle itself – as if they were living in an isolated time stream completely apart from the outside world.

Harry wondered about the man, about how he had penetrated Voldemort's redoubt – the apparently impenetrable wards that resisted Dobby's powerful elf magic. He also theorised about the man's reasons for coming here. In that timeless interval, he noticed the black wood splinters of the destroyed cabinet, gleaming in the dim light. Harry shivered uncontrollably due to the cold night, an eerie echo of the cold that was slowly gripping his heart as the moments ticked relentlessly away, leaving his mind defenceless against the inexorable reality of Draco's mortal wound.

Harry smelt the dank dungeon - and the dragon's decaying flesh - and it felt as if he could sense the fear and hopelessness of Voldemort's victims when they were trapped in the evil castle.

Remus followed the progress of the old man as he crouched next to Draco; there was something about the man's movements that seemed oddly familiar – as if he was a friend or foe from yesteryear. Remus shook his head, thinking that perhaps the man was a Death Eater during the First Wizarding War that reneged the dark path, like Severus.

Before Remus could say anything though, the old man took off his silver ring, which gleamed strangely. Remus saw with interest that it had two small emeralds as the eyes of a snake that was eating its own tail.

The old man grabbed Draco's left hand and put it around the ring; with his other hand he touched softly Draco's shoulder and muttered something inaudible, even for Remus' exquisite hearing.

Afterwards the old man and Draco disappeared in a bright flash.


	16. This orb of majesty

 

When Draco woke up, his chest was very sore. He felt a needle-like pain near his heart. He touched delicately his body with his left hand, tracing an arc from his hip to his chest. Everything appeared to be ok. He was lying on a makeshift pallet, in the middle of a small room; there was a dim bluish light all around him.

Draco shook his head wearily, trying to make sense of it all. The last thing he remembered clearly was Bellatrix throwing a dagger at them. As he became more alert and the last traces of sleep left his mind, Draco recalled an intense glow and a jarring sense of displacement _. Perhaps I tried to Apparate and splinched myself?_ thought Draco.

Noting the eerie silence enveloping him like a blanket, Draco sat up gingerly and looked down at his chest. He grimaced in distaste when he realised his tattered robes had another cut near his chest pocket. He could see his white shirt, though now it was a dark burgundy, as if he'd bled. _As if I need another wardrobe malfunction! This bloody robe is unsalvageable,_ thought Draco grumpily.

He looked around and saw a white door. Cautiously approaching the exit, he twisted the golden doorknob. The door opened with a creaking sound and Draco peered outside. Squinting in the dim light, he saw a vast hall, filled with shelves.

Smoothing his torn robe, Draco walked into the huge hall. The shelves continued throughout the length of the vast room, intersecting in the centre. They were filled with myriad balls, some as small as his fist and some as large as a stuffed Flobberworm. The room was full of these crystal orbs, not unlike the ones Trelawney was so fond of.

A scowl marring his face, Draco remembered Harry telling him about his adventure in the Ministry when Voldemort lured him, planting the idea that he was torturing Harry's godfather. Harry described in detail a hall full of crystal spheres like these.

Draco scratched his head, mumbling, " _What was it Harry called it? Yeah, the Hall of Prophecies_."

The Slytherin grimaced when he recalled that was the fateful night when his father was arrested, and then sent to Azkaban.

Looking around, Draco thought this was the hall Harry visited. So it would seem Draco had gone to the Ministry, though he didn't know the coordinates to this bloody hall, because he'd never been here. Perhaps he'd arrived here serendipitously when he Apparated away from Bella – this would also explain the lingering pain in his chest from the splinching.

Draco sauntered to the nearest shelf, his insatiable curiosity piqued by a majestic orb that seemed especially enticing. The eerie echo of his footsteps in the cavernous hall - combined with the bluish light not unlike that of a subterraneous grotto - was quite unsettling, but the blond continued his way undeterred, he was nothing if not curious.

He looked sharply at the row of milky orbs which were supported by thin metal rings, and reached for the one whose swirls vibrated most entrancingly.

But then a gruff voice startled him. "Wouldn't pick that if I were you, Dragon!"

Draco whirled around and saw an old man dressed in white, the old man sported a white beard and moustache, and he had black eyeglasses - in their surface Draco saw the myriad spheres reflected like small fairies.

Draco scowled at the newcomer, recognising the old man – what was his name? Antares something or other. The one who'd planted the seed of an idea- Harry and him together – not that he didn't envision that before.

Following this train of thought - remembering Harry - Draco felt vitally alive and suddenly horny. He wanted to go find Harry and have his wicked way with him. And that led him ineluctably to thinking about the battle, and Harry facing the Death Eaters without him by his side.

Draco searched his pocket and didn't find his wand. He eyed the man warily. Could it be that the old man was a Death Eater and had kidnapped him? In Draco's increasingly feverish state of mind – eager to return to Harry and his mother – everything seemed possible.

He grimaced and concentrated on apparating back to that bloody Slytherin Castle as Antares touched his shoulder and softly said, "Harry's safe, Draco! No need to go gallivanting off to rescue him."

Antares sneered and turned to look at the sphere next to Draco. "That Gryffindork can take care of himself!"

The old man waved his hand towards the milky orbs. "Just don't touch them! They're not meant for you" – Antares shrugged nonchalantly – "regulations and all, you know?"

Draco snorted, thinking that this busybody was working at the useless Ministry.

The old man took out a wand from the pocket of his pristine white robes and with a careless sweeping motion he lit the sconces at the nearest wall, illuminating brightly that portion of the gargantuan hall. He reclined lazily against the shelf in front of Draco, unmindful of the spheres, and took off his dark glasses, cocking an eyebrow at Draco.

The Slytherin noticed Antares' striking amber-coloured eyes, a distinctive dash of colour in his otherwise pale countenance. Antares whirled his wand between his fingers and finally pocketed it, sighing loudly. "How do you feel, Draco? Not everyone survives a dagger near his heart, you know?" drawled the old man.

Draco touched his chest gingerly – that explained the lingering ache that refused to go away. "So Bellatrix almost killed me!" The blond scowled fiercely at the spheres behind Antares whilst the old man regarded Draco with a bemused expression.

"How long was I unconscious?" asked Draco, looking around at the gloomy room.

"About two days" - answered Antares, his white hair gleaming in the scant light - "wonderful thing, magic. It can heal you quite fast."

Antares cocked his head in a strange fashion when Draco blurted out, "What are you, a Healer?"

"I'm no Healer, Draco. I'm something much more exciting," drawled the old man.

Draco gazed around at the hall full of the strange orbs. "What are we doing in the Hall of Prophecies? Are you trying to steal a Prophecy? Do you work for Voldemort?"

Antares frowned, his amber eyes shining mischievously. He cocked his eyebrow and smirked infuriatingly. "The Hall of Prophecies?"

Antares walked to the nearest shelf and delicately picked up a random sphere, gazing at its depths as if it held the key to the universe. He turned to look at Draco, the hints of a sneer lifting up the corners of his lips. "Well, I must admit you're very observant, but I expected no less."

The old man sauntered lazily to the shelf just behind Draco - where the seemingly endless row of multi-sized spheres was broken by an empty space. Draco turned and squinted, realising that there was a piece of jewellery there. The locket's golden surface gleamed, and the small snake formed by green stones glittered in the light cast by the sconces. Obviously the jewel was a relic of some sorts, perhaps it had belonged to Salazar Slytherin himself – he of the gargantuan snakes. Draco grimaced in distaste; his former admiration for the Founder had not survived his confrontation with the odious Nagini.

Antares picked up the jewel and turned to Draco. "Can you do something for me, Dragon? I need to destroy this-" said Antares hefting the locket gingerly, as if it would bite him.

Despite his loathing of snakes, there was something weird about the locket that held Draco's attention. It felt as if the jewel whispered to some part of him.

"- but I don't have time right now," continued the man, his gaze meandering around the hall.

Draco reached out his hand to touch the locket, mesmerised, but Antares held it aloft, out of the Slytherin's reach.

Whilst the old man continued talking nonchalantly, Draco glared at him. "This is a bit" – Antares cocked his head –"outdated now. A piece of rubbish, really."

The old man directed his piercing amber eyes at Draco. "I think your father taught you how to cast _Fiendfyre_?"

After Draco nodded wearily, Antares continued, "You can destroy it with that, just be careful."

The old man took out a gleaming ring from his left pocket and threw it at Draco. The Slytherin Seeker caught it easily and held it up, looking at the intricately depicted serpent biting its tail.

Draco frowned; he was reminded of that nasty old snake, Nagini - which had been so much trouble and had destroyed his once pristine robes.

The blond shook his head; it seemed Antares was full of Slytherin relics.

"... the password that will take you exactly whence you came." In his musing, Draco hadn't heard the old man's ramblings.

"Care to repeat that? Didn't hear you," drawled Draco cheekily.

"I said" – replied Antares patiently in an eerily similar drawl as he scowled at the blond Seeker – "that when you say, _'Nirvana,'_ the password will take you whence you came. Later you can destroy that locket."

Antares took out Draco's wand from his left pocket and handed it to the blond.

Draco put on the silver jewel next to his Malfoy signet ring on the ring finger of his right hand. He sneered at the old man and twirling his wand between his fingers, bowed mockingly to his saviour.

Antares swept his gaze imperiously around the huge hall and suddenly his features sagged, revealing a tired, weary expression.

Draco was eager to return to Harry's side. He didn't trust completely the old man's assurances that Harry was ok, and he wanted to do some mischief to his bloody aunt and the other Death Eaters. He put the locket in the pocket of his robes and lifted his hand, looking at the silver ring.

Turning to face Draco, Antares said, "But whatever you do-"

The blond hastily muttered the password, and disappeared in a swirling light.

"-just don't wear it," finished Antares.

When he realised that Draco was gone, Antares nervously ruffled his white hair.

"Bloody great! He has to go off half-cocked just like that. Knew it!" huffed the old man, his voice resonating strangely in the cavernous hall.

Antares picked up a particularly milky crystal sphere and tried to look at his reflection, groaning when his efforts proved futile. "Hope this bloody glamour finally got the eyes, too!"

* * *

In the hall of Slytherin Castle, the Hogwarts students were huddled around Cho, who was writhing on the floor - the screams she had valiantly tried to suppress were now uncontrollable.

McGonagall looked down her nose at the Death Eaters she'd put under her immobilising spell. Moody and Alan Swann walked up to her and looked at the prisoners - amongst whom were Thorfinn Rowle, the Carrows, Parkinson, Nott and Crabbe - wondering how they would get them to the Ministry holding cells.

Meanwhile, Severus was eagerly searching for Draco and Narcissa. As he approached the centre of the hall, he bumped against something solid. Severus reached his hand towards that seemingly empty space and touched something solid and pliant that felt furry. Scowling, the Potions Master yanked the fabric and revealed the immobile Dumbledore.

Severus freed the Headmaster from the spell cast by Moody with a muttered _'Finite incantatem.'_

Severus spoke clearly, his voice rushing in his characteristic eloquence, "The Dark Lord is dead at last! I must say I don't approve at all your handling of Potter! Dim as that boy is – like all Gryffindors – he deserves quite more respect from you. I can't believe that you immobilised him just when he was about to score a signal victory!"

Dumbledore looked at the Potions Master with a resigned mien; his eyes were not twinkling, in fact there was remorse and guilt in his uncharacteristically sombre expression.

Nearby, Parvati was crouching next to Cho, wringing her hands and looking imploringly at Hagrid. "Help her!" said she, holding Cho's hand gingerly. When Hagrid bent down and tried to pick Cho, the Ravenclaw screamed. Parvati stood up and looked around, crying. "Somebody help her!"

Albus heard the distressed cries of his student and approached the group around a writhing girl he recognised as the Ravenclaw Seeker, whilst Severus searched the hall, looking for injured people.

The Potions Master passed near a copper cauldron next to the dead dragon. Sneering down his nose at the incongruously abandoned instrument, Severus bent down to pick it up – he could never leave a cauldron just lying around – and instead of touching cold metal, he felt warm flesh. Snape's hands traced the contours of a slim waist and an inert arm.

Severus swished his wand at the fake cauldron and muttered a counter spell, frowning when he saw Tonks' immobile form, lying 20 feet away from the students.

Moody limped towards Severus and glanced worriedly at Nymphadora, his protégée and favourite Auror. He exchanged a concerned glance with the Potions Master and growled, "What'll we do?"

Moody looked towards Cho and then Tonks. "We have to get them to Pomfrey right now!"

Shacklebolt approached his fellow Auror, after having conjured shackles for the prisoners. He'd put a cloak over Mundungus' body, prior to taking it to the Ministry.

Kingsley looked towards the Floo. "We could sure use the Floo" – the Auror scowled, his dark skin sweaty with the exertions of the battle –"trouble is we don't know if it's compromised."

Dumbledore called out to them from around the group of students. "Don't worry, Kingsley. I can always call on Fawkes" – Albus peered worriedly at Tonks –"I'm sure the phoenix can take Miss Chang and Nymphadora back to Hogwarts."

* * *

Crookshanks walked into the hall after his unsuccessful chase of the rat. It would seem he was fated to never eat the rodent he remembered so well.

The ginger cat sauntered regally towards Hermione, sniffing disdainfully at the puny humans - as is the wont of cats - when he espied one of his favourite persons.

Crookshanks momentarily forgot his mistress and sidled next to McGonagall, meowing piteously as Minerva crossed her arms and looked wonderingly at the orange feline.

When Crookshanks started yowling, McGonagall sighed wearily and bent down to pick him up. _He's just another victim of Granger's errant ways. Not content with her unseemly behaviour, now Granger rushes into battle tugging her poor cat with her,_ thought Minerva reprovingly.

Crookshanks purred contentedly on the arms of Minerva, sounding like a small army of enraged Hinkypunks.

Hagrid walked up to McGonagall and bent down to pet Hermione's cat, one of his favourite animals; but Crookshanks glared at the teacher and hissed furiously, scratching deeply the half-giant's hand.

The ginger cat jumped down from the shelter of Minerva's arms and ran away, hissing all the way.

Hagrid and Minerva exchanged a surprised look whilst Hagrid shook his head. No wonder Fang was afraid of Crookshanks, the feline was entirely too unpredictable.

* * *

Harry tried to reach for Draco's hand just before both Draco and the old man disappeared. The Gryffindor moaned and exchanged an anguished look with Narcissa and Remus.

Harry stood up wearily and opened his mouth to say something, when Draco sauntered in the dungeon from the hole where the door used to be.

Draco gazed upward and followed the movement of a leaf falling midway from the ceiling; the moment poignantly reminded him when he used a bird to test the Vanishing Cabinet when he was fixing it with the ulterior motive of getting a quick getaway. His gaze slid next to the splinters of the destroyed cabinet before he was assaulted by a jubilant Harry, almost toppling the Slytherin.

Harry hugged Draco fiercely, touching him gingerly as tears flowed down his face. He couldn't believe Draco was all right, that he had survived Bellatrix' attack. He put his face next to the silky golden hair he loved to touch and inhaled deeply; the woodsy aroma of Draco's shampoo felt like coming home - like arriving at Hogwarts when term started. It didn't matter to Harry that the scent was overlaid with the coppery smell of blood and the ever present stink of the dragon's carcass. All that mattered to Harry was encircling Draco in his strong arms, protecting him from the traitorous world - feeling like he was holding all that mattered to him.

For the moment, Harry was content.

"Careful, Harry!" wheezed Draco as Narcissa joined the hug. Trapped between the arms of his mother and Harry, Draco felt safe.

"Did the old man cure you? How come you're back so fast?" asked Harry wonderingly.

"Are you all right, Dragon? You're not hurting, are you?" asked Narcissa.

"I'm fine, Mom. Please!" pleaded Draco to no avail; because Narcissa held him with the strength of a lioness making sure that her cub was all right.

Finally, Narcissa stepped away and glared at her son. "If you ever pull a stunt like this, Draco, I swear-"

Harry frowned, unaware of the dark streaks running down his cheeks where his tears had mixed with the grime of the battle. He heartily joined Narcissa in her chastising of Draco. Lifting his hand, Harry admonished, "Yeah, Draco! Don't ever-"

Draco looked towards Remus, seeking succour from his DADA professor, who was standing next to a scowling Dobby. But Remus smiled softly whilst he touched his moustache - perhaps wishing he had a camera like Colin Creevey.

Draco realised that the old man's strange jewel had brought him back just moments after he'd left. So that explained their frantic worry.

Draco exclaimed, "Come on! Don't be like this! We survived, that's the crux of the matter!"

Harry scowled; no matter how quaintly Draco phrased it, the Slytherin's wound had scared him very much.

Hearing Draco's words, Remus remembered his pregnant wife - who was lying on the floor when he cast the cloaking spell on her.

"Tonks!" shouted Remus, dashing out of the dungeon and through the corridor, never noticing the slender dark chair that was incongruously there.

Hearing Remus' worried exclamation, Narcissa wanted to check up on her niece, too. At the same time she wanted to ask her son what had transpired with the eerily familiar man, but she felt the pull of family – wanting to make sure that Andromeda's daughter was ok. After all, Andie and her daughter were the only family she had left – considering Bellatrix' betrayal.

Narcissa walked to the door, turning back to cast a last admonishing glare at her little Dragon. Holding her wand determinedly, Narcissa went out the door, sure in the knowledge that Draco and Harry would protect each other.

Smiling wickedly, Harry motioned towards the door. "Let's finish the Death Eaters, shall we?"

The Slytherin fingered his torn robes and sighed wearily. "Yeah, let's!"

The Seekers made their way out of the dungeons, holding their wands in front of them -ready to hurl spells at any dark wizards. They exchanged a worried glance when they noticed the lack of noise and flashing lights – apparently the battle had been decided while they were in the dungeons. Clutching his wand tightly, Draco advanced in front of Harry. The Gryffindor walked rapidly up the narrow stairs, trying to move ahead of Draco, ready to face the wrath of the Death Eaters before his boyfriend.

Nudging each other's shoulders, seeking to be the one in front, the boys entered the hall. The first thing Harry noticed were the twins, their read hair and pink robes made their shapes clearly visible even in the dim light of the sconces. Fred and George appeared to be arguing next to Voldemort's overturned throne. George was gesticulating wildly with his arms and Fred seemed to be measuring the golden chair. Harry shook his head, thinking that the twins probably planned to abscond with the chair to use it as an ingredient in some prank.

Draco saw with relief that the Light had won the battle. The hall was mostly empty. A blond man garbed in Auror robes was weaving a spell around Voldemort's body.

Narcissa and Remus were talking with a speccy Auror. Draco saw his mother touching Remus' shoulder, saying something that obviously calmed the professor.

In fact Alan Swann, the Hufflepuff Auror, was explaining to Narcissa and Remus that Tonks and Miss Chang had been transported back to Hogwarts via the Headmaster's phoenix, and Kingsley Shacklebolt had taken the prisoners to the holding cells at the Ministry.

Narcissa called out to Draco, "Remus and I, we're going to Hogwarts. I think Bella hit Andie's daughter with one of her tricky spells. I need to help her."

Draco nodded tiredly.

Remus and Narcissa walked to the Floo. She turned back and called to Draco one last time, "See you there!"

Ron rushed to Harry when he saw him enter the hall, Hermione right behind him. Ron's arm was bleeding due to a stray spell, but he'd refused to go back to Hogwarts until he found Harry – the future memory of Harry's unmoving body haunted his thoughts.

Hermione's blue jeans had a tear on her right knee where she'd fallen to evade a spell, her sweater was streaked with grime, and her robe was slightly askew. She was searching for Harry and also her elusive cat, shaking her head and wondering how Crookshanks had followed her into the battle.

The two Gryffindors had been searching feverishly for Harry since the fight ended with the cowardly retreat of the Death Eaters.

Hermione scowled, looking at Harry's tattered robes whilst Ron approached the Seekers warily - mindful of the Slytherin next to Harry.

Hermione huffed, "Really, Harry what..."

Fingering the locket inside his pocket, Draco interrupted her, drawling haughtily, "Well, well, it's our dear moRon and Whore-"

Before the blond could finish, Harry elbowed him sharply. Now that his former friends were coming around, Harry could not risk them fighting with Draco. The Gryffindor distinctly remembered how Draco ended this particular remark.

"What'd you say?" exclaimed Ron, brandishing his wand threateningly towards Draco, ready to retaliate.

Draco nursed his ribs and glared at his boyfriend.

"W... what Draco meant to say-" stuttered Harry, noticing his lover glaring mutinously at him and stepping away.

Ron crossed his arms sceptically, waiting for a good explanation - ready to curse Draco at the drop of a hat. Meanwhile Hermione scowled fiercely at the Seekers, her arms akimbo.

George and Fred, smelling trouble, had approached quietly. They were flanking Harry, his pink robes contrasting sharply with Harry's black one.

Whilst Fred - his bandages white again thanks to Moody's spell – smirked at Draco, George observed Harry intently, betting mentally on the outcome of the next battle.

"What Draco meant" - repeated Harry, wilting from the combined glares of Draco, Ron and Hermione whilst his agile mind searched desperately for some kind of explanation.

"Yes, Harry, what do you think I meant?" growled Draco.

Harry found something to say. He squared his shoulders and looked at the Gryffindors and his fellow Seeker.

"What Draco meant to say was" - said Harry, crossing his arms defiantly - "my! Ron and Horcrux, that's what ... Draco meant," finished Harry a bit lamely.

Harry cocked an eyebrow at Draco, silently urging him to go along with this particular obfuscation.

"Pray tell me what a Horcrux is, Harry!" huffed Hermione, fingering her wand and pondering whether to hit Draco with a spell or with her fist. She looked around the hall, still searching for her ginger cat.

George wrapped his arm around Harry, while Fred did the same from the other side. The twins chorused, "Yeah, Harry, our speccy git, what's a Horcrux?"

Harry tried to fabricate a story using his Slytherin side. After all, hadn't the bloody Sorting Hat said he would do well in Slytherin? Time to put that theory to the test.

"A Horcrux is, like, a magical item that Voldemort spelt with Dark Magic!" said Harry excitedly, waving his arms.

Ron and Hermione shared a glance; they were still sceptical of Harry's explanation.

Harry continued - unmindful of the scrutinising glances of those around him. "I reckon that's what Voldemort used to come back from the dead, because it has his evil essence."

Warming to his concocted story, Harry added, "And if you chance upon it, don't wear it – because it can turn you into a very aggressive, mean person!"

Ron snorted and looked at Harry sceptically. "So you're going to say that Malfoy has been wearing one all the time we've known him?"

Draco glared at the redhead, fingering his wand whilst Harry patted Draco's shoulder reassuringly. "Course not! Draco's naturally rude!"

When the Slytherin scowled fiercely at Harry and brushed off his hand, Harry backtracked. "I mean, Draco's naturally sarcastic, not rude at all! Except on certain occasions..."

Hermione muttered quietly to herself, "Yeah, like all the time!"

Harry reached for Draco's hand and held it in a strong grip, urging the irreverent Slytherin to go along with his tale. "The Horcruxes - they're some relics that Voldemort uses to reincarnate. As long as there's one around, he'll return!"

Using his newfound Slytherin wiles, Harry moved his thumb sensuously around Draco's wrist, one of his erogenous zones – hoping to mollify the disgruntled blond. Harry continued, "Draco is worried about them and wants to search for them together with you two; that's why he used those words when he saw you!"

When Crookshanks sauntered next to Draco and rubbed himself against the Slytherin's legs, Harry heaved a sigh of relief – maybe the ginger cat would help distract his mistrustful friends.

Hermione saw her cat and bent down to pick him up, but Crookshanks shied away from her, moving around Draco's legs and meowing piteously until the Slytherin grabbed the ginger cat and wrapped Crookshanks comfortably around his shoulders as if the cat was a living stole.

Crookshanks purred contentedly whilst Hermione glared murderously at the feline and the smirking blond, pondering whether to cast _Confundus_ on her unruly cat.

Harry lifted his eyebrow at Draco and cocked his head. The blond blushed and petted Crookshanks' head. "Well, what can I say?"

Draco nudged Harry with his shoulder so that Crookshanks' whiskers tickled Harry's forehead. The Slytherin added, "I like big cats, even if they're speccy ones."

Fred and George guffawed while Harry glared at Draco.

Ron exchanged a commiserating look with Hermione, he knew what it felt like when a familiar betrayed a wizard; after all, he had trusted Scabbers too.

Draco smirked infuriatingly at the irate Hermione, slouching a bit. "Your cat weighs a lot, Granger." He touched softly Crookshanks' whiskers. "But he's a likable fellow."

Fred nudged George; the twins shared a glance and communicating in their internal language, they hurried away, perhaps to grab Nagini's body.

After the twins left, the ginger cat meowed, indicating that he wanted to come down from his comfortable perch. Draco put him down on the floor and Crookshanks scampered away, Hermione running after him. She was determined to grab the cat by his whiskers if it was necessary.

But when Hermione dashed out of the hall right behind her cat, she didn't find the feline. Crookshanks seemed to have evaporated like the Cheshire Cat.

* * *

Draco touched Harry's shoulder. "Tell me, Harry. How did you manage to cast _Adagissimo_ so fast at the snake?"

At that moment Pansy rushed into the hall; she and Blaise had been looking for Draco on the other side of the castle. They'd had a skirmish with two Death Eaters that tried to hide in the kitchen, so they were grimy and Pansy favoured her right leg. Blaise stumbled into Pansy and started to scold her when he saw Draco. The two Slytherins rushed to embrace their friend.

After they were reassured that the blond was all right, Blaise sidled next to Ron and put an arm around his shoulder.

The redhead squirmed; it seemed that Ron was not comfortable with the sign of affection. Pansy noticed the Gryffindor's discomfort and glared at him, tossing her copper-coloured mane aside – now liberally sprinkled with melted cheese from her confrontation in the kitchen.

Glancing at Pansy, Draco continued his enquiry, "I use classical music as inspiration for _Adagissimo_. What did you use?"

Harry fidgeted, shuffling his feet on the dirty stone floor. "Well, I use a Weird Sisters song."

Ron snorted disbelievingly, as did Draco.

Harry lifted the rim of his glasses with his pinkie - the spell he'd used to stick them in place when he left Hogwarts to search for Draco had apparently worn off. "I imagine Celestina Warbeck singing ' _A cauldron full of hot, strong love,'_ but the cauldron she's singing about? It's full of molasses."

"The molasses spill and flood the room she's in, reaching this high" - Harry put his hand near his waist, spreading his palm - "soon they reach her throat so she sings quite slowly. Plus there are gigantic treacle tarts all around her." Harry mimicked Celestina's stance and sang slowly, "A cauldron fuuuulllll of hoooooot - glub, glub, glub."

Blaise laughed raucously and Ron sported a smirk. Draco just smiled and shrugged, knowing that Harry did unconventional things.

McGonagall was standing next to the Floo, she motioned for the group of students so they would return to Hogwarts. Harry chanced to look in her direction. He felt suddenly very tired. It had been an exhausting night.

Holding Draco's hand, Harry walked towards the Floo where the blond Auror had disappeared in a green flash a minute before. Ron and Hermione were walking on his right whilst Pansy and Blaise flanked Draco, scolding the blond.

Of course that melody was engraved deep in Harry's heart, for it was the song they played on their graduation – when Draco danced away with Terry Boot and the blond seemed completely unreachable to him. In the long months that followed, he delighted in imagining a swift retribution for the Weird Sisters singer.

* * *

Meanwhile, Hagrid and Moody were walking in the narrow corridor next to the potions lab in the dungeons of Slytherin Castle, after sweeping through the corridors, looking for stray Death Eaters.

Hagrid was too tall for the corridor, he was slouching noticeably and it was killing his back. So when he saw a simple oak chair with thin spindles, he sighed and began to sit down.

"Wait, Hagrid!" exclaimed Moody, his gruff voice sounding eerie in the dank corridor.

"Don't sit on that chair or you'll destroy it!" snapped Moody, limping towards the chair, motioning for Hagrid to step aside and finally sitting down.

Mad-Eye looked around with an alarmed mien when he felt a small tremor underneath him. _Probably the after effects of the bloody battle,_ thought Moody suspiciously.

After the adrenaline of the fight left him, Moody was tired and grouchier than usual. He took out his hip flask and took a hefty swig of firewhiskey.

"Just what I needed after battling Death Eaters," growled Moody contentedly.

Moody looked piercingly at Hagrid. "What's the deal with Dumbledore? I had to take him out after he immobilised Harry!"

"Perhaps it's the Elder wand?" blurted out Hagrid.

Realising he had said something he shouldn't, Hagrid tugged nervously his moleskin coat, shuffling his huge beaver-skin boots on the stone floor and gazing pathetically at Nagini's dead body. Perhaps he could've persuaded the huge snake to mend her ways, just like he did with Aragog.

"What'd you mean? What Elder wand?" exclaimed Moody disbelievingly, sitting straight and looking suspiciously at the dark corridor. At least there were no Death Eaters lurking around.

"Well" - Hagrid doubted he should say more, but he cowered under Moody's magical eye, which was whirling crazily - "Dumbledore told me that his wand is the most powerful of all. Perhaps it affected him?"

Hagrid looked down at Moody, who took another swig of his firewhiskey, hitting repeatedly the chair with the flask in his excitement.

"According to wandlore" – Hagrid walked towards the stairs, tired of stooping down so low; he turned back to look at the grizzled Auror - "now that you disarmed Dumbledore, the Elder wand is yours."

 

 


	17. The secret pact

 

If Harry and Draco thought that returning to Hogwarts meant they could go to their beds at once, they were sadly mistaken.

After he came through the Floo to the Headmaster's office, Harry looked towards the windows and noticed a beautiful dawn breaking out over the Black Lake; it reflected his buoyant mood when he saw Draco return after Bellatrix' deadly attack. Harry passed a hand through his unruly mop, noticing with distaste the slimy feel of blood and ashes. Truly the battle had wreaked havoc with his hair – or maybe Draco was rubbing off on him.

Harry yawned, after all, the night had been rough and hard - the battle with the Death Eaters exhausting and chaotic. All his nervous energy after the battle suddenly appeared to drain out of him, and he yearned to lie down on his bed, preferably near his blond boyfriend.

Harry put his hand on Draco's shoulder and lent towards him; he felt an urgent need to feel Draco's body, see him scowling and smirking – after Lestrange's attack, he just needed Draco near him.

Harry whispered in Draco's ear, "Let's go to the Room of Requirement, I'm busted." Harry yawned again.

Draco whispered back, "Deal." And then he broke into a wide yawn.

Whilst the Slytherin waved goodbye to Blaise and Pansy, Harry nodded curtly to Ron and Hermione.

The Seekers were making their way out of the office when Dumbledore's tired voice stopped them. "We need to discuss what happened tonight, my boys."

Pansy glared at the oblivious Headmaster – didn't the old coot see how tired they all were? It's not every night one faces the Death Eater hordes and lives to tell the tale. She whispered imperiously to Blaise, "Go and fetch Madam Pomfrey."

Blaise crossed his arms and glared at the stubborn girl, growling, "'M tired, Pans!"

Pansy elbowed him sharply and replied primly, "Poppy is our secret weapon, in case Dumbledore insists on debriefing everyone today. Now go, git!"

Meanwhile, George was protesting vehemently. He pointed at his twin's bandages. "But Headmaster, that's insane! Fred needs to have his ear attended to!"

Albus Dumbledore just sat back on his ornate chair and looked at them indulgently, his eyes sparkling as usual. "We have to discuss what happened tonight while it's still fresh on your minds. It's imperative that we do so."

McGonagall shook her head in disbelief. Why Albus insisted on interrogating the students at this moment, she didn't know, they all looked very tired. Ron and Fred Weasley were hurt, as was Parkinson.

McGonagall was ready to express her doubts when the Floo roared to life. The enormous figure of Hagrid appeared in the room, followed an instant later by Alastor Moody.

Whilst he was shaking the ash off his tunic, Moody's magical eye whirled and settled suspiciously on the students.

Hagrid walked to Harry and Draco, beaming at his favourite student and his boyfriend. The Slytherin had gained Hagrid's trust by protecting Harry from the strange black cloud emanating from Voldemort's dead body.

The half-giant looked at the students and frowned. They looked as whipped as Fang after a trying day.

"What are ye lot doing here?" Hagrid made shooing motions with his huge hands, nearly hitting Draco's head. "Scoot! You should be in your beds!"

Dumbledore fingered his beard and looked at Hagrid from beneath his spectacles. "I fear they have to answer some questions first, Hagrid."

Moody growled, "You should be the one to answer questions, Albus!"

His magical eye whirling madly in his anger, Moody took out his hip flask and drank a swig of firewhiskey to calm his nerves. "Like how in hell did you think immobilising Harry in the middle of the battle was a good idea?"

McGonagall looked sharply at Moody. "What _exactly_ do you mean, Alastor?"

Moody limped towards the desk and swept some parchments off it before sitting down. He pointed at Dumbledore with his left hand. "Albus here immobilised Harry just when the boy was about to finish You-Know-Who. That's why I hexed him."

Mad-Eye glared at the flustered Head of Gryffindor, "You know, Minerva - just before you disarmed me!"

Moody looked imperiously at the students, "What are you doing here?" He pointed to the door with his silver flask, glinting in the soft morning light. "Get some shut eye. Merlin knows you deserve it!"

Draco and Harry exchanged a relieved glance and scurried towards the door. But before they could make their escape the door opened, revealing Madam Pomfrey, a yawning Blaise some steps behind her.

Pomfrey's white dimple shined brightly in the morning light as she walked slowly into the room. Poppy's stately progress reminded Draco of the topsail of the Durmstrang ship as it sailed on the Black Lake, carrying the students to the Triwizard tournament.

The formidable nurse frowned at the students - Fred with his bandage which had slipped again, Ron with his sleeves showing traces of blood, Pansy who grimaced in pain and Draco's pallor, unusual even for him.

Poppy pointed accusingly at them. "You all will come with me to the Infirmary at once!"

Recognising that Pomfrey's glare meant they could not get out of going to the Infirmary. Harry sighed and made his way to the door, holding Draco's hand. They were followed by a disgruntled Fred – Ron and the other students behind him.

Severus arrived when the students were going out. The Potions Master tried to slip away undetected, but Pomfrey noticed that his cheek was bleeding. She scowled at him and motioned to the door.

Severus glared at the woman and went to the exit. Before Poppy could catch him, he'd slipped away to the dungeons. He had a salve that would heal the wound. After all, Severus frequently sustained some kind of injury during his spying duties.

Snape walked down the marble stairs, his robes billowing behind him. If a portrait dared to look questioningly at the Potion's Master, his glare soon had them scurrying away, like that impertinent knight who looked like Don Quijote on steroids.

* * *

As the Head of Slytherin was leaving, Minerva McGonagall – her lips pressed into a thin line – muttered to Mad-Eye, "I owe you an apology, Alastor; your behaviour at Slytherin castle seemed quite suspicious-"

Hagrid shuffled his huge feet on the floor and tugged nervously his moleskin coat. It seemed quite strange that Albus Dumbledore, whom he knew to be the most powerful and sage wizard of the age, would do something as utterly stupid as immobilising Harry just when they were fighting the Death Eaters. Hagrid shook his head, thinking that perhaps Dumbledore should deal with innocuous creatures such as Aragog and Buckbeak to improve his empathy.

"-but it seems I was wrong and you were really protecting Harry," finished the Deputy Headmistress, turning to scowl at Dumbledore.

Fawkes started trilling calming notes, sensing that McGonagall was about to lose her composure, but Minerva dismissed the phoenix song from her mind. She looked sharply at the headmaster, twirling her wand and wishing she were in her office with a relaxing cup of tea. "And you, Albus. You'd better explain why you put Harry in such a precarious situation. Potter is - as you've said so many times before - your favourite pupil, and yet... this doesn't surprise me at all."

McGonagall sighed wearily. "After all, you put him up with the awful Dursleys, when I begged you not to."

Hagrid left the room, shaking his head and resolving to visit the students in the infirmary first thing after his class with the Second Years. As the door closed softly behind him, he could hear McGonagall's increasingly shrilly voice as she chastised the Headmaster.

"... I just don't understand you, Albus. Frankly, I'm beginning to think that you're just using Harry as a pawn in your supposedly brilliant chess strategy."

* * *

Ron and Draco started bickering on the way to the Infirmary.

"Malfoy, I don't see what Harry sees in you, you're despicable..."

"Well, you're an uncouth homophobe, Weasel!"

"And you dragged Harry into that battle."

"Harry just appeared! Wasn't expecting him nor wishing for him to be there," replied Draco, fingering his wand and weighing whether to curse the Weasel now or later.

Ron glared at the Slytherin and he was restrained from cursing him right there by Hermione's hand on his elbow. He continued, "You're just useless like..."

But Ron was interrupted by George, who punched his arm. "I wouldn't say that if I were you, Ronniekins. After all, it was Draco who saved our hides..."

Fred sidled next to Ron and jostled his elbow. "Yeah, it was Malfoy who avoided our getting killed and tortured by his crazy aunt Bellatrix."

The twins started relating their tale to a bewildered Ron as Hermione listened intently.

Pansy elbowed Blaise who was fiddling with his wand. "See, I told you this was Draco's plan!"

In the Infirmary, Poppy imperiously motioned for the students to lie down on the beds. Draco noticed that his elf champion, Kreacher, was on the bed next to the corner.

Narcissa stood up from the chair next to Tonks' bed. She walked gracefully towards her son, taking care not to wake up the sleeping DADA teacher who was sitting on the other chair.

It had been easy for Narcissa to counter the spell Bellatrix had used on their niece. The stubborn Metamorphmagus Auror wanted to check on the students until a discreet sleeping charm cast by Poppy made her sleep. Tonks was spending the day in the infirmary.

Narcissa ruffled her son's hair and hugged him, unmindful of the breach in Malfoy manners. This was her son, and she had almost lost him during the night. Draco inhaled his mother's perfume, reminding him of days spent securely in the Manor's garden, watching his mother take tea with the ladies and his father talking with the men.

When Narcissa noticed Draco yawning, she motioned for him to lie down on the bed, pretending not to notice his sleepy scowl.

As Draco lay down, he could hear Kreacher muttering, "Bloody dragon lady does not let go of Kreacher." When the old elf espied Dobby, who was standing behind Harry, he mumbled, "Kreacher can't get away from that bloody upstart elf."

Draco smiled tiredly when his mother helped him to take off his ruined robes. When Harry made to sit on the chair next to the bed, Draco smirked. "What are you doing here, Harry? Go on and grab some rest. I'll be fine."

"What happened with that old man?" said Harry, lifting an eyebrow inquiringly.

Draco yawned. "Tell you tomorrow, ok?"

Harry nodded and settled on the chair, crossing his arms. He rubbed his eyes – truly the battle had exhausted him. Though it was marvellous to think that Voldemort was gone.

The Seekers could hear the twins regaling the other students with the tale of their exploits and how they conquered the evil snake. Fred was pretending that he was Nagini, miming her sinuous movements – something that Parvati and Pansy were keenly observing.

When George started wrestling with Fred, they stumbled across the infirmary, jostling Cho's bed. The Ravenclaw Seeker was sleeping peacefully. Her bed was next to Tonks'.

The tired students watched this with sleepy gazes, interrupted now and then by their yawns – until Madam Pomfrey came back and glared at the twins, motioning for them to go to their beds.

When George tried to slip away from the room unnoticed, Pomfrey grabbed him by the sleeve of his pink robe and ordered him to lie down on the bed next to Fred's.

By that point Draco had succumbed to sleep. Harry stayed still for a few minutes, watching Draco's innocent slumber. The Slytherin looked like an elf prince just arrived from his realm. Draco's alabaster brow was unmarred, his dark eyelashes contrasted sharply with his porcelain skin, and he was the picture of innocence - belying the myriad plots Harry knew his Dragon was probably plotting, even if subconsciously.

Harry bent down and kissed Draco's forehead, murmuring, "Sleep well, sweet prince."

Harry sat down on his chair and yawned, wondered what a strange night this had turned out to be. He looked around and saw that Ron was sleeping next to Blaise. Parvati had left to look for her sister.

Harry's gaze slid towards the door and he noticed his former girlfriend Cho was sleeping soundly next to Tonks. Remus was on the chair next to his wife, holding her hand and trying to stay awake. Tonks' hair was brown, devoid of its usual colours.

Harry yawned once more and his eyelids, heavy with fatigue, kept closing more frequently until he fell asleep.

When Narcissa saw Harry nodding off, she took out her wand and with an experienced flick of her wrist she levitated the Gryffindor and laid him down on the bed next to Draco. She went to him and tucked him with the blanket, ruffling softly his unruly mop of hair and muttering, "Thanks."

A few minutes later Pomfrey walked by and examined each of her patients. Poppy touched gently Remus' shoulder and motioned for the bed on the other end of the aisle. When the DADA teacher tried to protest, a glare from Poppy shut him up. Shrugging, Remus stood up and lied down on the bed and promptly fell asleep again.

Dobby smiled from the shadows and disappeared to the kitchens, ready to tell Winky about his adventures.

* * *

When Hermione arrived at her dormitory, she was relieved to find Crookshanks sleeping soundly on her bed. She sat down and petted the ginger cat, who purred in his sleep.

Hermione yawned and took off her sweater; she held it aloft and looked with distaste at the scorched back where a stray spell had passed too close.

Noticing a shadow creeping by, Hermione took out her wand and pointed it at a frightful figure – its face was ghostly white and it appeared to have carrots instead of hair, contrasting sharply with its ethereal white shroud. The spectre shrank back emitting a shriek that penetrated deeply in Hermione's ears, momentarily vanishing any trace of sleep and exhaustion she might have. Hermione's nerves were taut after the battle, and she readied herself to fight this unfamiliar ghost if need be.

Peering closely at the seeming banshee, Hermione realised that it was only Lavender Brown wearing curlers and her usual face cream and nightgown.

After she recovered her poise, Lavender crossed her arms and glared at Hermione. "Where have you been, Hermione? And why did you threaten me?"

Hermione's exhaustion came back after the latest adrenaline rush. However, she was curious about something. Touching softly Crookshanks' ginger fur, Hermione looked at Lavender and raised an eyebrow. "Never mind that, Lavender. Did Crookshanks go anywhere in the night?"

Lavender huffed, "Not that I know of. Your fat cat has been sleeping on your bed all night." She motioned to her ghostly white face. "During the night I had to reapply my cream and saw the big fat orange lump on your bed."

* * *

When Harry woke up, he noticed the shadows on the wall and realised it was sunset. He'd slept all day.

He stretched his arms and sat up on the comfy bed, noticing that the Weasleys were absent.

Kreacher was standing up and quailing a bit under Poppy's glare. The old elf muttered, "Bloody nurse is too forceful, Kreacher has chores to do!"

Kreacher snapped his fingers and disappeared, leaving Poppy scowling at the bed.

The nurse went to Harry's bed and motioned towards Draco. "Please wake him up, Harry; the Headmaster wants to see all of you after you have dinner."

Harry stood up and went to Draco's side. He jostled the Slytherin's elbow whilst the blond muttered, "Gerroff me, snake or I'll..."

Draco rubbed his eyes and mumbled grumpily, "What do you want?"

Harry relayed Poppy's message and Draco stretched his arms lazily like a big cat. He went to the bathroom and tried to fix his hair, noting with approval that all traces of gore had been removed.

But when he looked down at his infirmary pyjamas, he realised he had to go back to the dungeons for clothes. _Perhaps Harry can lend me his Invisibility Cloak?_ thought Draco whilst he splashed his face.

Halfway satisfied with his appearance, the Slytherin opened the bathroom door and saw Pansy talking quietly with Harry. She had deposited fresh clothes for him on the bed.

She winked at Harry and called to Draco, "Got clothes for you, Draco."

Draco picked up the robe, a crisp white shirt, wool trousers and his indispensable Slytherin tie. "Where's Blaise?"

Pansy frowned. "He got up an hour ago, we went to dinner – I had to make a detour for your clothes. Blaise is waiting for us in Dumbledore's office."

Draco bent down to kiss his ex-girlfriend. "Thanks, Pansy! You're the best."

Pansy blushed whilst Harry snickered, and then she glared at the Gryffindor.

* * *

When Harry arrived at Dumbledore's office, just behind Draco, he saw that Ron's parents were there. Mrs. Weasley was sniffling and sitting between Fred and George. She was squeezing tightly Fred's left hand.

Ron sat apart from his family. Hermione was sipping daintily from a cup of tea whilst she made small talk with Ron, occasionally glaring at him.

Mrs. Weasley looked at Draco with gratitude and smiled warmly at the boy. Harry deduced that Fred and George had repeated their story.

Blaise was standing next to Fawkes' perch; the Slytherin was petting the phoenix and whispering in the bird's ear. Pansy was standing next to him, peering at some parchments on the desk.

_Blaise is probably trying to bribe the phoenix to take him to Italy to visit his grandmother and Pansy wants some blackmail material,_ thought Draco, shaking his head in admiration.

McGonagall was standing next to Severus, whispering in the ear of the Potion's Master. Severus scowled at Dumbledore and nodded, something that obviously surprised McGonagall, to judge from her raised eyebrow.

Dumbledore sat on his ornate chair; he was wearing a violet robe and purple hat. The cord around his beard was golden, and his eyes glinted when he saw Harry.

The Headmaster nodded to his favourite student and bade him sit down next to Ron.

Harry warily recognised Dumbledore's usual demeanour, and he took his seat next to his redhead friend, who was holding Hermione's hand.

Draco sat next to Harry and looked around noticing that his mother was absent. _Probably Mom's gone to the Manor, after all, she has to oversee father's financial affairs now that he's stuck in Azkaban. But not for long, if I have my way,_ thought Draco smugly.

Dumbledore coughed delicately, and when he was sure he had the attention of all the people in the room, he started. "I have questioned your friends and professors about last night's activities, Harry. And I must say you performed admirably well. One hundred points to Gryffindor for your bravery!"

Harry beamed whilst Draco growled, thinking that the old coot was distracting Harry from questioning him about his actions – like the small matter of immobilising him during the battle. Surely Dumbledork expected Harry and the Gryffindorks to enjoy the points and simply be content. _Trouble is, the old coot is probably right,_ thought Draco disgustedly.

Dumbledore gazed sharply at Draco – as if reading his mind through _Legilimency_ – and continued in a severe tone. "As for you, Mr. Malfoy, I must say I'm disappointed in your actions which indirectly caused this confrontation – not to mention revealing yourself as a spy. Fifty points from Slytherin!"

Pansy and Blaise shot hateful looks at Dumbledore and Severus growled. Draco started to say something – but it was Ron who reacted first.

"Bollocks! You must be out of your mind, Headmaster!" Ron stood up and laid his hands on the desk, his face was as red as a tomato, and he was scowling fiercely at Dumbledore.

"I don't like Malfoy – but if it hadn't been for him, Fred and George would probably be dead! How can you dismiss something like that?" Ron ruffled his red hair and stuck his hand in his robes, probably searching for his wand – until Hermione's hand softly touched his elbow.

"Ron's right, Headmaster," added Hermione. "Malfoy _did_ save the twins, as they just told you. How can you take house points from Slytherin for that?"

Draco crossed his arms and smirked at the old coot. _Things are looking up. Never dreamed that Weasley and Granger would stand up for me. I'll have to discontinue my plans to thoroughly hex them,_ thought Draco smugly.

McGonagall frowned at her old friend. She could understand turning a blind eye to the Marauder's actions – after all, she did the same – but this was going too far.

"Sixty points to Slytherin for cunning that resulted in saving lives," blurted McGonagall, surprising everyone, especially Draco.

At that moment the Floo flared to life and Mad-Eye Moody appeared in the room. The grizzled Auror shook off the ash from his coat and glared at the occupants, growling, "What? I could've been a Death Eater and caught you unawares. Constant Vigilance!"

He limped towards Dumbledore's desk and stopped just two feet from Draco, who tried to make as much space as he could from the paranoid Auror – remembering when his look-alike hexed him.

"Eighty points to Slytherin" – snapped Severus, shooting a venomous glare at his mentor – "for Draco's exquisitely timed actions, befitting our House."

Moody's magical eye whirled and settled on Draco. The Auror said, "Did I miss something?"

Severus waved his hand towards Dumbledore and replied, "Only that Albus here wants to punish Draco for saving the meddlesome Weasleys."

Dumbledore sighed and fingered his beard wearily. "You mistake my meaning, Severus. I just think that Draco could have saved the Weasley twins without revealing his role as a spy."

Albus looked sharply at Severus. "Indeed, you could have done the same, Severus. Now we have no spies amongst the Death Eaters."

"Bollocks!" said Moody, eerily imitating Ron's earlier words. "Malfoy here did a good thing, and it's time that you recognised it, Albus."

Before the old men could get into a fight, Draco drawled, "Now that Voldemort is dead, Headmaster, it is time to fulfil your part of our pact."

Dumbledore's eyes stopped twinkling. "What do you mean, my boy?"

"Remember when I first came to you and offered my services as a spy?" drawled Draco.

Pansy raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Blaise, the black Slytherin nodded, remembering that conversation in the train when Draco told them his plans for the new school year.

Dumbledore nodded resignedly. "Yes, Draco, I remember."

When the professors looked inquiringly at him, Dumbledore explained. "At the beginning of the year, Draco came into my office-"

The Headmaster stopped and swept his gaze around the room. "This is strictly confidential. No word of what transpires here is to be repeated. Am I clear?" Dumbledore looked sternly at the twins until they nodded like the rest of the people.

"-he came to me with a proposal. Draco offered to be a spy within Voldemort's ranks," continued Dumbledore, ignoring the gasps of Mr and Mrs Weasley.

When Dumbledore stopped, Draco lifted an eyebrow and drawled, "And in return?"

Dumbledore fidgeted with his ring and finally replied, "And in return, the Malfoy family would be left alone when Voldemort died."

Dumbledore looked towards the windows. He added in a whisper, "That includes Lucius. Now that Voldemort is gone, I'm bound to push for Lucius' freedom in the Wizengamot."

"Surely your position as Chief Warlock will come in handy now," said Draco whilst he held Harry's hand.

Dumbledore nodded, although now that the Malfoy patriarch was about to be set free, he feared for his carefully constructed plans.

_Antares thought that he could win me for his plans, whatever they are. He wasn't aware that they fitted exactly into mine. Family is everything for a Malfoy, and now that father has endured the hardships of Azkaban prison, he won't return to Dark Magic, and mother will be happy that he returns home,_ thought Draco whilst he smirked.

Turning to look at Harry, his smirk changed slowly into a sweet smile, showing his pearly teeth to perfection. He rubbed his thumb on Harry's palm.

_Yes, family is everything for a Malfoy. Harry is part of me now, my love and my life. And for this I thank Merlin and that old man, whoever he is._

But Harry unfortunately could not read Draco's thoughts, and his mind was in turmoil; the insecurity that the Dursleys' harsh treatment had bred into him came to the fore.

_What if Draco is just pretending he loves me as part of this pact with Dumbledore? Is that why he endured my insensitive ways, because he wanted his father back? What we have, is it just another of his plans?_ thought Harry despairingly.

 

 


	18. The unfulfilled Vow

 

**May 9** **th** **, 1997**

Time passed quickly in the maelstrom of preparing to sit their exams. It didn't help that word of the battle in which Voldemort died inevitably spread to the Wizarding World, courtesy of a snooping Rita Skeeter. The group of students were celebrated as heroes, which certainly was not totally agreeable either to Severus or Draco.

For a while, neither Harry nor Draco could go out of the castle to visit Hogsmeade, because reporters – their behaviour and clothes eerily similar to a murder of crows – were ready to appear at a moment's notice and surround the students, peppering them with all kind of intrusive questions. The reporters' frenzy to extract confessions extended to all the participants of the battle, as Ron and Hermione discovered to their extreme discomfort when they snuck out of the castle into Honeyduke's trap door, only to find a beleaguered Blaise in the Three Broomsticks. The Hogwarts students beat a hasty retreat back to the comparative safety of Hogwarts.

When Tonks went to St. Mungo's for her monthly check up, she was followed around by insistent reporters who instantly recognised her by her purple hair – somehow the news of her posing as Bellatrix leaked to the press. But the wily Metamorphmagus escaped them by hiding in the women's bathroom and transforming into a believable version of Rita Skeeter, her blond locks and vapid look fooled the journalists.

The irrepressible Tonks managed to buy some time for the harried students at Hogwarts by chatting with the journalists and casually dropping the news that there was a raging dragon pox epidemic at the school – she made this convincing by letting a few pustules appear on Skeeter's nose. The reporters were intimidated by the knowledge that they'd get the disease if they persisted in their stalking of the students. Word spread quickly amongst the flock of journalists that gravitated to the coverage of Voldemort's doom and the fear of catching the debilitating disease surely impeded their stalking of the stressed heroes.

For Harry it was a bittersweet time. He felt enormously relieved that he wouldn't have Voldemort to kick around any more; secretly he enjoyed very much seeing the snarky Potions Master handle the thorny issue of his sudden fame – Snape had suddenly become the heartthrob for a good proportion of the female population of Hogwarts and some males. But Harry was fated to return to the Dursleys for the summer. All of Harry's pleading not to return to his awful relatives was in vain, because Dumbledore was deaf about this particular issue and wouldn't answer Harry's questions, as was his wont.

Fortunately Harry had allies. One morning, Remus bade him stay after his DADA class. They'd been discussing defensive spells against the deadly curse _Decapitare;_ Harry had developed an imaginative defence against this particular spell – namely a partial shield that covered only his head and neck.

Shrugging, Harry approached Remus' desk.

The Marauder looked a little haggard and worn – the full moon had occurred two days ago.

"I heard you have to go back to the Dursleys this summer," said Remus in a soft voice as he began to tidy the classroom with a casual sweep of his wand.

"Bloody Dumbles forces me to return to the bloody whales," growled Harry.

"Language, Harry!" said Remus reprovingly, yet with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Sorry, Remus! I just can't stand the thought of being jailed for summer break."

"Don't worry, Harry," replied Remus whilst he leaned towards the Gryffindor. "You'll only have to stay two days. Then Tonks, Moody and Kingsley will take you to Malfoy Manor. Narcissa arranged everything. Tonks will be staying with you and Draco during summer break; and I'll be there of course."

"That's great!" said Harry enthusiastically, rubbing his hands gleefully. Frowning, he asked Remus, "Does Dumbledore know?"

Remus pocketed his wand and looked around at the neat classroom. Turning to Harry, he smirked the quintessential Marauder smirk, full of the promise of mischief and pranks. "What the Headmaster doesn't know can't hurt him, can it?"

* * *

Harry was sauntering along the corridor towards the transfiguration classroom, holding gingerly his leather bag containing the new transfiguration textbook he'd had to order from Flourish and Blott's; the barn owl carrying the heavy book to Hogwarts hadn't been overjoyed at its task and tried to viciously nip Harry's hand when it delivered the book. Fortunately his quick Seeker reflexes helped him – that and the opportune help provided by Draco's eagle owl, which was as irascible as his owner.

Harry still hadn't caught the book thief that purloined his precious doodles, but he was finding the Half-Blood Prince tome to be full of agreeable spells, so he wasn't bothered that much anymore.

Ron approached him and laid his hand on Harry's shoulder, asking worriedly, "You're fine, mate? You don't seem so cheerful lately, considering that You-Know-Who is dead."

Harry turned to his redhead friend and grumbled, "You could say his name, Ron! It's not as if he's coming back!"

Ron held up his hands pleadingly, wondering where the hell the blond Slytherin had gone off to. Malfoy was the only one able to deal with Harry when he was like this. "Whatever you say mate. It's just, you seem a bit off lately."

Harry looked around, hefting the bag close to his body and lifting the rim of his eyeglasses with his index finger. "Where are Mione and Draco anyway?"

"Mione and the ferret are at the library, researching something to do with wands. Moody let slip something about some Elder wand or something." Ron snorted in disbelief, saying ruefully, "Who would've believed that Mione and Malfoy would bond over research methods?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. Hermione and Draco had a lot in common. They were the top students at Hogwarts and fiercely competitive. They took to research like a fish to water; diving into books was something that Ron and Harry tended to avoid like the plague. All in all, Harry was glad that Moody had provided them with the tantalising clue of that Elder wand thing, because Mione and Draco were too busy researching to hound them with the need to prepare their exams.

"Well, they'd better hurry or they'll miss McGonagall's class," said Harry whilst he waved to the portrait of Sir Cadogan, who was struggling to get out of a coterie of Victorian women who were taking tea. The knight had been following Harry around Hogwarts, insisting that only he could protect the Gryffindor from any more untoward attacks.

"Yeah, Mione is no longer McGonagall's favourite student," replied Ron absently. No matter how hard Hermione tried to convince McGonagall that she did not mean to imply Minerva had regular sex with Severus, the deputy Headmistress did not believe her.

When the Gryffindors entered, they found Hermione sitting on her usual chair in front of the class. Ron sat next to her and Harry went to the back of the classroom, plopping down on the chair next to Draco's. The Slytherin was taking his book out of his bag with studied nonchalance. Harry and Draco had used their newfound power as heroes to tweak their schedules so they had most classes together.

"How did you get so fast here, Draco?" Harry took out parchments and several quills, lifting an eyebrow at his blond boyfriend.

The tousled-haired Gryffindor shook his head ruefully. "Lemme guess. Someone lent you a Time-Turner?"

Draco stole one of Harry's sugar quills and smiled enigmatically whilst he licked its tip suggestively.

Meanwhile, Hermione was blushing as she took her book from her voluminous bag, putting it down on her desk. Ron had easily guessed the reason for her timely arrival and asked the same question about Time-Turners.

"Hush, Ron!" snapped Hermione. "It's supposed to be a secret!"

The bushy-haired witch looked towards the back of the classroom and saw Harry sitting next to his Slytherin boyfriend, doodling on his book.

"I went to McGonagall to see if she would give me a Time-Turner," confided Hermione. "But she refused, citing my weird sexual practices." Hermione snorted angrily, thinking about the humiliating scene.

Ron smiled wickedly until Hermione elbowed him sharply. "It's not funny, Ron! Anyway, we had to go to Remus and beg him to give us the time device."

Hermione took out her quills and arrayed them on the desk in a neat fashion. "There's so much research to do if we want to save Harry!"

Ron leaned towards Hermione, a frown marring his freckled face. "You still think he's in danger! But You-Know-Who is dead!"

Hermione brushed a curl of her hair that kept getting into her eyes and turned to look at the redhead with a worried face. "It's not Voldemort I worry about. If you recall the memory we saw, Voldemort didn't kill Harry. It was Harry who killed himself."

McGonagall entered the classroom and walked briskly towards her desk. Frowning at her students, the professor said, "Today we will learn how to use transfiguration as a means to defend ourselves if we face a Dark wizard."

Minerva reached her desk; opening a drawer, she took out three lima beans and put them at the edge of her desk, glancing at the curious students with a fierce scowl on her face.

Hermione elbowed Ron again and leaned toward him, whispering, "You see, even McGonagall is worried about the future. I tell you that our struggles are not over yet by any means."

McGonagall pursed her lips primly and scowled at her whispering students. Looking pointedly at Harry, she said, "Potter, if you would be so kind as to curse me?"

Harry looked up from his doodles, lifting the rim of his glasses with his pinkie. "Err, you really want me to do that, professor?"

Minerva snorted and nervously moved one of the lima beans. "Just pretend I'm a Death Eater, Potter. I assure you I can defend myself properly."

Harry shrugged and lazily grabbed his wand. With an exact flick of his wrist, he muttered the first curse that came to his mind, _'Sexumsempra!'_

A red beam shot towards McGonagall. The professor waved her wand with a downward sweeping motion and muttered softly, ' _Canis mutatio,_ ' transforming the lima bean into an enormous yellow Labrador dog, which was on the path of Harry's spell. The curse hit the dog, whose eyes became glazed with unbridled lust.

Before McGonagall could reverse the effects of her spell and transform the animal back into a bean, the slavering lusty dog ran towards Harry and began to furiously hump the Gryffindor's leg.

Harry shrank back from any contact with the horny dog as Draco and the rest of the students started laughing uproariously. Harry swatted the lusty canine's head with his parchment, and when that proved ineffective, with his new book.

The Labrador dog, not finding any release for the itch he felt, shot towards the open door and burst out of the classroom before the startled McGonagall could react.

"Potter!" exclaimed the dazed professor. "What was the spell you used?"

Harry blushed. "Just a spell to improve" – he muttered the last part under his breath –" _onessexlife."_

_That bloody Half-Blood Prince book really comes handy_ _sometimes_ , thought Harry.

McGonagall frowned, not believing her ears. Whatever lusty wind was rippling through Gryffindor House seemed to be unstoppable.

Shaking her head disapprovingly, the professor directed her gaze to Neville Longbottom. "If you would be so kind to curse me in a _seemly_ fashion, Longbottom?"

Whilst the class went on, Harry continued doodling on his new book, remembering...

* * *

The day after Draco was released from the hospital, the Slytherin visited his friend Cho Chang in the infirmary. Everyone had been released except her and Tonks.

What the blond didn't know was that there was someone else in the room, someone invisible.

From his vantage point beside the door, Harry clutched the Marauder's Map whilst he observed his Dragon from inside his Cloak. He'd taken to follow the blond Slytherin around, trying to divine his motives – unsure if he was using him as a political pawn, as Dumbledore was wont to do.

Frankly, after being petrified by the trusted Headmaster in front of the Death Eaters, Harry had developed a healthy mistrustful streak. His former admiration for Dumbledore had given way to the realisation that he was just a pawn in the old coot's master chess game, to be sacrificed at his leisure.

Ineluctably this distrustfulness spread to other areas of his life. Thus he did take with a grain of salt the facile friendships of the Hogwarts students - they who were so prone to leave him in a lurch when the slightest unfavourable wind blew towards Harry.

But the distrust also spread to Draco. Harry desperately wanted to make certain that the blond loved him for himself and not as a tool to get his father out of Azkaban.

Thus Harry waited with baited breath for the confidences Draco was sure to make to his friend Cho.

The Gryffindor observed the two Seekers with a deep scowl as Draco began to speak. "How are you doing, Cho?"

"I'm fine, Draco. Pomfrey says she'll let me go tomorrow."

"Thanks for helping us," said Draco diffidently as he handed a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans to Cho and another box wrapped on Slytherin colours.

"How sweet!" exclaimed Cho as she carefully opened the gaily wrapped box, discovering a golden snitch inside.

"You didn't have to bother!" continued Cho as Harry watched intently his fellow Seekers from behind his Cloak.

"Least I could do, considering you were cursed defending us," replied Draco politely as he sat down on the chair next to Cho's bed.

Cho opened the box of sweets and took the first one which was green with golden swirls.

"Mmh! Melon" said Cho after she ate the bean.

"Reminds me of the time when Cedric brought me the Chocolate Frogs from Hogsmeade," said Cho as she looked dreamily towards the window.

Draco crossed his arms and listened patiently as Cho began describing her time with the Hufflepuff Seeker in excruciating detail.

This went on for several minutes, and Harry couldn't help but smirk in triumph when he saw Draco was beginning to nod off. Apparently the Slytherin was getting bored listening to Cho's endless ramblings about Cedric – just like Harry.

In fact, Harry himself was in danger of nodding off. He hadn't slept well last night, plagued by doubts about Draco's true affection.

Harry's ears pricked up when he heard Cho ask a piercing question. "Why do you fight for the light, Draco, is it because of Harry?"

"Well, yes and no," said Draco cautiously, and Harry's heart sank.

"What do you mean, Draco?"

"I did have a change of heart." Draco conjured a glass of water and sipped daintily.

"After my father was imprisoned and Voldemort did nothing but laugh at us and punish us-" Draco put the glass on the floor beside his chair and mussed his hair, making Harry want to lovingly brush it with his hands and feel its silky texture.

"Yeah?" prompted Cho with her characteristic lilting voice.

"- I realised the futility of working for that noseless bastard. I'd had doubts before, but the admiration I felt for my father prevented me from questioning his beliefs," continued the blond.

Harry listened entranced to his boyfriend's words. "But I saw how my father being locked up in Azkaban affected my mother. She tried bravely to put up a good facade – how hard she tried!"

Draco fixed his gaze on the window and continued wistfully, "But at night, I heard her crying, alone in the master bedroom."

Seeing Cho's quizzical look, Draco explained carefully, "The Manor has an eerie way of conducting sounds; I was often able to hear my parents in my room. Believe me, it wasn't always an agreeable experience."

Draco's gaze drifted across the infirmary as he went on. "I made up my mind right then that I would try to avoid inflicting such heartache on my mother; that I would try to extricate my father from the awful mistakes he's made. And then, after that incident on the train; you know, when you rescued me and helped me get rid of the tentacles they gave me..."

Harry shifted his feet guiltily, recalling the time on the train when everyone ganged up on Draco. Sure, the students were defending themselves, but did they have to transform someone so beautiful? Did they have to give Draco tentacles?

"... and the old man tried to convince me. Not that I needed any persuasion," continued Draco as Harry shook his head. _While I was woolgathering, I missed something. That old man, is that the old coot that rescued Draco?_ wondered Harry.

Cho sat up on the bed and played with the snitch Draco gave her. She'd let go of it for a split second and grab it before it had a chance to fly away. It was sure to hone her reflexes if nothing else. Cho smiled craftily - Draco didn't know what he was doing when he gave her the gift. It would help her against the other Seekers – including the Slytherin - in the Quidditch games.

"So you didn't change allegiances for Harry?" asked the Ravenclaw Seeker penetratingly.

"No, I didn't," replied Draco, and Harry gripped so tightly the Marauder's Map that it threatened to break in two.

"I didn't change to the Light side because of Harry" – Draco chose his words carefully, as if he was speaking to an audience – "but I remain in the Light because of him."

Harry listened intently, watching Draco's face like a hawk. He couldn't help but notice how Draco's face slowly lit up. The Slytherin's outward facade of class and decorum seemingly melted before Harry's eyes as Draco's countenance seemed to be imbued with an inner light. His eyes shined and became the stormy grey colour that Harry loved.

"I don't trust Dumbledore – but I trust Harry with my life," continued the blond.

"I know him inside and out - like the palm of my hand," said Draco whilst he lifted his left hand, looking at it with rapt attention.

"Harry and I – we were made for each other. I knew it from the first moment I saw him, in front of the mirror at Madam Malkin's. With the eyes of a child I saw him as a possible friend; with the eyes of man I choose him as my love," said Draco with enticing passion as Harry's gaze caressed the blond's face from behind the Cloak as if for the first time.

Cho was so caught up in Draco's words that she failed to catch the Snitch and it flitted around the room whilst Draco continued talking, it nearly bumped into Harry several times. The Gryffindor had to duck to avoid the meddlesome Snitch, cursing it for the first time ever.

"Cold and fire - light and darkness are we, inevitably drawn to each other." Draco gazed at Cho's earnest face, wishing her to understand his tumultuous relationship with the Gryffindor he loved.

"We were meant to be together. To tease, to fight, to drive each other crazy-" Draco stood up suddenly and sauntered around the infirmary.

Harry had to back away because the blond passed near him.

"- to love one another."

Draco approached the panelled window and looked out; the landscape outside seemed unimportant as he visualised the tousled-haired Gryffindor in his inner mindscape. "Harry's the reason I remain in the Light, why I still fight for it, despite Dumbledore's bumbling leadership."

And Harry doubted no longer.

"I understand Harry" – Draco lifted his right hand and gazed at the Malfoy signet ring – "perhaps more than he himself does. Though sometimes he drove me mad with his indifference and coldness, I've had patience with him because he deserves that."

Draco abruptly cast a Tempus spell and frowned when he looked at the time. "Sorry to interrupt our conversation, Cho, but I've got to go to Potions. Severus will kill me if I'm late. All the hounding from the press has not left him in a particularly joyous mood."

Cho muttered low under her breath, "When is he ever in a good mood?" Harry couldn't help but agree with his former girlfriend. Indeed, when was the greasy git in a good mood?

Harry remembered with a start that his next class was in five minutes. With a lighter heart he left hurriedly the infirmary...

... "Potter! I'm talking to you, Potter!" McGonagall's piercing voice jostled Harry out of his recollection.

"I'm sure you have the means to search for that _unseemly_ dog," continued Minerva as she frowned at Harry.

Harry nodded guiltily. He was sure he could use the Marauder's Map to look for the dog; though he wasn't sure he wanted to meet the amorous dog. Perhaps he could let Snape deal with it. He smirked, thinking of the yellow dog-bean happily humping the snarky Potions Master's leg. That would be so much fun to watch. He could make a bundle selling the memory!

* * *

Harry and Draco went to Hogsmeade the next day, accompanied by their friends. Harry missed the period when he spent time only with Draco, but the newly formed truce was too delicate, it needed nurturing. If Ron and Blaise fell into an easy companionship that belied their different houses, Pansy and Hermione were a different matter.

The two witches fought angrily for no reason at all. Sometimes it was Pansy who started it all by muttering under her breath, "Busy know-it-all! Mudblood!"

Other times it was Hermione who began the attack. "Bitch! Pug-nosed slut!"

It was all the boys could do to separate the two volatile witches.

At the moment, Harry was horny. It'd been a month since the battle with Voldemort, and they'd had few precious lovemaking, what with preparing to sit their exams and playing Quidditch – and avoiding the nosy reporters.

It seemed as if Draco was waiting for something, for some convolute plan to come to fruition regarding Harry. Given Draco's planning, all his sudden evasiveness and waiting for the right moment - their escapades left something to be desired.

Harry was also tired. He cursed the day Mad-Eye decided they needed to prepare for the eventuality of another Death Eater attack. While Harry was very grateful for the grizzled Auror's skilled teaching, he dreaded the intense schedule Mad-Eye had set up. Moody was a harsher coach than Oliver Wood could ever hope to be.

Initially Draco had been quite leery of the Auror – no doubt Moody's face was forever entwined in his mind with the humiliating memory of fake Moody transforming him into a ferret.

But one day, Harry showed up to the training a few minutes late. It was still dawn, and the trees glistened with the dew on the edge of the Forbidden Forest where Moody held their training.

Harry observed Mad-Eye and Draco whispering conspiratorially, and he felt a bit of fear when both of them turned to look at Hogwarts with a certain predatory look. Later Harry coaxed the story out of his blond boyfriend. Apparently Moody promised to teach Draco how to transform his enemies into furry mammals.

Moody's teaching bore its fruits when Draco transformed a leering and cackling Marcus Flint into a cross-eyed opossum, to the delight of the Slytherins and some Gryffindors who were passing by in the corridor next to the potions classroom.

* * *

The six students walked along High Street. After they passed the railroad tracks, Draco observed mockingly that the inhabitants seemed to avoid passing near to the group, obviously they still believed the dragon pox story skilfully planted by Tonks.

Before Draco and the two other couples entered the Three Broomsticks, Harry said he wanted to buy some quills at Scrivenshaft's.

In reality, Harry wanted to buy something for Draco's birthday. True, it was still a month away, but with the pressure of their exams and Moody's mad schedule, Merlin knew Harry had little time as it was.

Having passed the post office on his way to Gladrags, Harry was sauntering along the street when he was seemingly ambushed. Not by prowling Death Eaters - but by two smirking, redheaded gits.

"See whom we've found," announced Fred, who was wearing a magenta robe – apparently Draco changing the colour of their robes had thrown a challenge to the twins. Harry noticed that Fred's wound had healed perfectly; it had left an almost invisible scar. The twins were still interchangeable, to their delight.

"Our very own speccy git, Forge," replied George, who was wearing a mauve robe.

"Oi, what are you lot doing here?" asked Harry, flanked by the ginger twins.

"Well, remember the conference in Dumbledore's office, old chap?" asked Fred.

After Harry nodded, George continued, "Mom wanted us to take our last year at Hogwarts, saying that with You-Know-Who dead and all - the Death Eaters were bound to seek revenge..."

"... especially with Bellatrix still running around," said Fred.

"Mom thought we'd be safer at Hogwarts." George rolled his eyes.

"As if! Dumbledore makes it a point to invite Death Eaters to be teachers." Fred also rolled his eyes.

"We haven't forgotten Bella, the bitch!" exclaimed Fred.

"Anyway, we managed to escape mom's clutches by pointing out we were planning an expansion in Hogsmeade," said George.

"Mom apparently believes that when we're near the school, we'll feel obliged to attend some classes," added Fred, wrapping an arm comfortably around Harry's shoulder.

"Don't know who led her to believe so!" chorused the twins. Afterwards, they smiled angelically.

George pointed with his left hand to Zonko's, the store they were passing by. _So the twins have set up shop in Hogsmeade,_ thought Harry with a mental shrug.

"So we're finishing the details. Zonko's will be the place to visit if you want to cause a little mischief at Hogwarts," said Fred.

The twins accompanied Harry to Gladrags. When Harry said he wanted to buy something for Draco, Fred pointed at some pink negligees, announcing it would be the ideal gift for the Slytherin.

Harry turned and glared at the redhead. Fred hastened to add, raising his hands. "Don't be jealous, Harry! You could wear it too; you'd look pretty in pink – it goes well with your eyes."

After Harry blushed, George added insinuatingly, "You'd be great in that, with your prettily flushed cheeks."

Frankly, Harry was fed up with the twins' banter. He took out his wand and with a lateral motion, he changed their robes into an apricot colour, liberally sprinkled with polka dots.

George turned to his twin and elbowed him. "See, Harry's just like his blond friend. Only more outlandish."

Fred frowned at his robes. "Yeah, this reminds me, Forge. We could launch a line of Voldie plushies with this pattern. Only they would get big when a certain word is uttered."

Sighing, Harry decided to buy an apricot scarf for Draco. It was hard to get something special for Draco, who had at his disposal the Malfoy fortune. Yet Harry felt Draco would love the gesture.

After he paid at the counter and walked out of the store, Fred and George followed him, ribbing him about Draco's exploits in bed.

George elbowed Harry none too gently. "Tell me, mate. How big is Draco?" he pointed to his crotch. "Down there?"

Harry refused to answer. Fred added slyly, "Is he a mouthful?"

The Gryffindor blushed. "I don't know, really. I've never..."

George and Fred ceased their playful banter instantly and exchanged concerned glances. Communicating with that ease that only twins possess, they silently exchanged a wealth of ideas. Obviously Draco had not taken that step and gotten a blow job from Harry. According to the terms of the Unbreakable Vow, his life depended on doing that.

Knowing the Slytherin, he was probably concocting some outrageous plan to get Harry down to his knees and get him to perform the act. But the twins were concerned; they didn't know how much time Draco had until the magic of the Vow reacted and considered the vow null, enacting its gruesome retribution and killing Draco - just because of his penchant for Slytherin plots.

The twins exchanged a nod. Obviously the blond Seeker needed a little push, and they knew just how to give it to him. After all, the twins owed him their lives, and thus a Life Debt.

Better to help him now, and if Draco should ever decide to call upon the bloody debt, they would conveniently remind him of their invaluable help in saving his own life.

George looked pointedly at Fred´s pocket, and Fred got the hint.

Throwing his left arm around Harry's shoulder, Fred fished inside his pocket and took out a candy. Holding it out to Harry, he said, "Well, old chap, being our investor and all, here's a prototype of our newest invention."

Harry grabbed the candy and looked warily at it. He didn't trust the twins; after all, they liked to use Ron as a guinea pig. Perhaps they had extended that courtesy to him?

Noticing Harry's troubled expression, George hastened to add, "Don't worry, mate. We've tested this product ourselves. It's a modified version of our Ton-Tongue Toffees. We call it Demitongue Toffee"

"Seeing how poor Nagini suffered so much with the candy we inadvertently threw at her," said Fred whilst he wiped an imaginary tear off his cheek.

"We decided a smaller version would be better," added George.

"This one just grows the tongue..."

"... to about twice its usual length..."

Harry was moving his head left and right, trying to follow the twins' peculiar manner of speaking until he gave up and just looked at the street ahead.

"... so that means the result is just..."

"... comfortable enough so that you can..."

"... give a great blowjob," both twins said at once, leering triumphantly.

Harry blushed and grabbed the candy, eyeing it speculatively. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea after all. They could sure use the time to have some fun between studying for the gruelling exams.

 

 


	19. Video interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the video I edited for this story, set to the accoustic version of the Cure's 'Just like heaven'.

[Direct link to youtube](http://youtu.be/fFWy93LfB2Y)

 


	20. Fulfilling a Vow

**May 12th, 1997**

"Tell me more about these horcruxes of yours, Harry," said Ron. The redhead was eating shepherd's pie, spraying liberally Hermione's sausages with black pudding.

The brunette moved away her plate as she rolled her eyes. She held a thick notebook beside her, eyeing the page - wondering if more time should be spent preparing for Runes or Potions. Exams were next month and she'd already fallen far behind her schedule, thanks to that pesky affair where Voldemort died.

Looking sharply at Harry, Hermione added slyly, "Yes, I want to know more about your"- she made quotation marks in the air - "horcruxes."

Harry pretended to choke on his treacle tart as he pondered how to answer his friends' questions. Ever since he came up with the idea of those devices to avoid a bitter fight between his Draco and Mione and Ron, he found to his increasing distaste that the three were unlikely allies in one thing - their mistrust of him. When he started fibbing about those hypothetical things he embellished the story, and it was hard keeping it all straight.

Hermione took out her wand and with a careless movement of her wrist, a magical wave hit Harry's back, making him cough repeatedly.

"We´re waiting, mate." Ron grabbed the goblet, gulping down the pumpkin juice. Then he wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his robe whilst Hermione swatted his arm. "Manners, Ron! How many times do I have to remind you?"

"Mione, you act more like McGonagall every day." Ron sighed exasperatedly as he exchanged a sly glance with Harry.

Harry decided to derail this conversation, and the McGonagall remark was just what he needed. He put his left hand inside his pocket robe, tenderly touching his hedgehog, Hector. With all the confusion after the battle and the constant efforts to escape the press - before Tonks took care of it, Harry had neglected his pet. Hector appeared a bit listless and he was thinner. His diet of vegetables didn't seem to work.

"It's understandable, Ron" - Harry speared a piece of his treacle tart and lifted it to his mouth - "after all, Mione has fallen from McGonagall's good graces. So she has to be like her."

Hermione huffed, "At least I don't go on making up silly stories like you, Harry!" She returned to perusing her schedule, mumbling low under her breath, "Dividing the soul! And wearing one of these horcruxes makes you evil!"

She looked sharply at Harry. "I suppose if you wore it, you'd see Malfoy kissing someone else, like Cho?"

Harry recoiled from Hermione's sharp words; they hit too close for comfort. _Perhaps I got carried away with describing these things. Shouldn't have mentioned that last bit,_ thought the Gryffindor as he returned to devouring his treat.

* * *

Leaving the Great Hall, Harry sauntered towards the entrance, intending to visit Hagrid. Perhaps his friend would know what hedgehogs ate? Harry passed the armour next to the gate, glaring at Terry Boot on his way out of the school.

Harry breathed the scent of the freshly mown grass as the sunlight fell upon his face. Far away in the distance, the green foliage of the Forbidden Forest beckoned to him, soothing his nerves because it meant that all was well. Life at his school would continue without the constant worry of divining what Voldemort was up to. Perhaps later Harry would venture into the forest to visit the Centaurs - after all it'd been a while since he talked with Firenze.

Harry touched his pet, finding one of the sweets the twins gave him inside his pocket. He decided to use it today and surprise Draco. His boyfriend seemed to be quite jittery lately, as if he was under some deadline, which was puzzling considering that Voldemort had been vanquished and Draco's life was no longer threatened.

Harry was climbing up the hill when he heard a feminine voice.

"Seen any glubberbills, Harry?"

Harry turned around and saw Luna. Smiling widely at the sight of the Ravenclaw, he answered softly, "Reckon I haven't. What do they look like?"

Luna approched in a fluid motion, seemingly dancing upon the grass. Harry noticed that her feet were bare, her blue leggings reached to her ankles.

Harry shook his head, turning to frown at Hogwarts. "The Ravenclaws stole your things again?"

Luna shook her head, her snow-coloured curls framing her face. She fixed her intense blue eyes on Harry. "No, just wanted to feel the grass under my feet."

Harry decided to ask Luna for help. He took Hector from his pocket and showed him to her, opening his palm carefully so the hedgehog wouldn't fall.

"Luna, do you know what hedgehogs eat?"

She went to Harry, leaning down to observe the white hedgehog. She gingerly reached a hand and petted his head, ruffling softly Hector's quills.

She looked up at Harry with a guileless smile. "That's easy, Harry. They eat the same as glubberbills, worms!"

Harry scrunched his face in distaste as Luna went on, "Fresh worms, of course." Seeing her friend's expression, Luna hastened to add, motioning towards the hill, "But don't worry, plenty of them around here."

Luna squinted at the hedgehog. "Where did you get him, Harry? From Hogsmeade?"

Smiling, Harry touched the hedgehog's quills, remembering the class where he'd conjured Hector. "No, Luna. I conjured him; it was for a Transfiguration class."

Luna nodded sagely. "Well, I have to go now. Terry needs help and I promised I'd get him a glubberbill."

Harry frowned when he heard Boot's name. "What kind of help, Luna?"

Luna touched one of the big red radishes that adorned her necklace. "He needs help finding love. But I know just how to help him."

Luna gazed at the Forbidden Forest. Before she continued, she covered her mouth with her hand as she yawned discreetly. "The glubberbills? They help wizards find true love. They're small - just like mice - but they have a small horn on their furry forehead. They're related to unicorns, actually."

Luna turned to look at Harry. "That's why their magic is so potent."

Harry touched his school bag, frowning. _Hope Luna doesn't find these animals. I don't want Terry stealing Draco._

Luna waved goodbye to Harry and walked towards Hogwarts. After she'd taken several steps, she turned to him and casually asked, "Do you know where Hector comes from?"

Harry shook his head whilst he petted the hedgehog. "Don't know. I just conjured him."

Luna smiled brightly; in the light of the morning sun, her hair shined - and Harry felt a jolt of desire as he recalled Draco's hair - and his plans for the evening.

Luna's toes curled around the grass as she enjoyed its subtle caresses against the soles of her feet - grounding her in the earth, in the here and now. Her face lit up when she saw a glubberbill scurrying around the tall grass behind Hagrid's cabin.

Finally she motioned with her arms, indicating Hogwarts and the Forbidden Forest. "Your hedgehog, it comes from the same place the snorkacks do - and the glubberbills."

Before she sprinted away to catch the elusive horned mice, Luna added as an afterthought. "The world is not only what you see, and it" - Luna squinted her eyes whilst she sought to follow the white glubberbill against the green grass - "is not the only one, by far."

Without saying another word, Luna sprinted towards Hagrid's hut. Terry desperately needed her help.

* * *

Draco was looking for the right object in the Room of Hidden Things. He had to seize this day. Tomorrow Hermione had scheduled study time for their exams, and under the avalanche of studying for their finals, he wasn't sure when they would have enough spare time again. Unsettling Draco further, the tousled-haired Gryffindor had returned from Hogsmeade with a peculiar smirk that was strangely alluring.

Draco waited for the right moment to fulfil the Vow he'd made to his crazy aunt. Sometimes he felt a sick tightening on his chest - like he had a snake inside him that threatened to devour him. It was the magic of the Vow that demanded the fulfilment of its terms.

Unfortunately in choosing the mental image of Harry on his knees in front of him, he'd imagined a blow job. They'd shagged yesterday - Harry on his knees and Draco behind him. Still, the cloying feeling inside him remained. Draco knew that Harry had to come to him and offer the oral sex - that he had to come undone whilst doing it or it would all be in vain, the act had to adhere to what he thought when he made the Vow.

All his schemes failed because Harry remained oblivious to his veiled hints.

Draco glanced at the Vanishing Cabinet. It was useless now that its twin had been destroyed by the awful Nagini. His gaze slid towards the objects in the room, some of them hidden for centuries - seeking that which would enable him to fulfil his Vow. In the dim light of the room, Draco saw a glittering jewel on a shelf.

The Slytherin approached the object and beheld a exquisite diadem. Still, it wouldn't do for his plans - he couldn't just give it to Harry and demand a blow job in exchange.

Tired from searching all around Hogwarts for that elusive something that he just knew would bring Harry to his knees, Draco sighed and sat down on a plush chair that was behind the Cabinet.

Draco sighed in despair. _Shouldn't have made that Vow! Why do I always put myself in these situations?_

His mood changed to anger, and he kicked the chair viciously. _Why doesn't Harry give me a blow job? I've hinted enough! How many sugar quills do I have to suck with a suggestive leer before the oblivious Gryffindor reacts?_

Draco stood up and angrily kicked the chair, overturning it. In his distraught mood, he thought he heard someone whimpering, but the bloody Room was empty. Sighing, the blond sauntered out of the Room of Hidden Things.

* * *

After the last class of the day, Harry dashed off to the Room of Requirement and his appointment with Draco.

Harry grinned, remembering Hagrid coming up behind him whilst he was digging on the rich earth for the worms. His half-giant friend directed him to the places he knew would have more of the squiggly animals. Hector had gobbled up the worms he got.

Harry saluted Sir Cadogan as he passed by a portrait of two Minotaurs taking tea in the middle of a labyrinth. The knight was making his way through the brambles, intent on following Harry around. The Gryffindor frowned when he noticed a strange glint in the portrait's frame, ducking immediately.

His instincts proved right when a yellow beam passed through the space his body had occupied a moment before. Harry rolled on the floor and brandished his wand towards the empty corridor, hastily casting a shield.

Whilst the Minotaurs tried to hide behind a wall of the labyrinth, overturning the table and their tea, Sir Cadogan stepped towards the front of the painting and brandished his sword. "Come out and show yer face, curmudgeon!"

"Good, m'boy!" The growling came from somewhere to the right of the painting. Moody undid his camouflage charm and limped towards Harry - making shooing motions with his arms towards Sir Cadogan, who was rudely berating the grizzled Auror.

Harry stood up and shook his robes, frowning at Moody, who was taking out his hip flask. Apparently scaring his students made him thirsty.

While he was grateful for Moody's help - the Auror knew quite nifty spells - Mad-Eye had become a menace. The Auror liked to throw curses at the unsuspecting students he coached. This had unpredictable consequences. Harry could not approach Ron unobserved - he risked being hexed; and when he tried to surprise Draco one morning before breakfast, the Slytherin turned him into a black rabbit!

_We´re becoming a bunch of paranoid wizards thanks to Moody! It's not as if Voldemort is going to come back, after all he is dead! Bloody Mad-Eye!_

Harry stood up and dashed off to the Room of Requirement, saying, "See you later, Mad-Eye. I've important business!"

"Constant vigilance!" shouted Moody at the retreating figure of Harry. His magical eye swirled around wildly, attempting the impossible - to reach into every crevice of the old castle and make sure that it was free from Death Eaters.

Moody squinted at the cowardly Minotaurs as he took a swig of firewhiskey.

When he was on the fourth floor, Harry took out one of the sweets the twins gave him and put it in his mouth. _This should be fun. I bet Draco will be surprised!_

* * *

In the Room of Requirement, Draco paced around, waiting for Harry. He still had no clue about how to fulfil that dratted Vow.

When the door irised open, Draco sighed in relief and annoyance - Harry was late as usual.

Draco squinted at the Gryffindor. Harry's face reminded him of one of those muggle comics Granger showed him one morning whilst they were researching. A dog called Pluto?

The Gryffindor smiled goofily - an effect enhanced by his tongue, which was lolling against his chin.

Harry launched himself against Draco, kissing him much more wetly than Cho ever could - his enormous tongue left wet trails down Draco's cheeks and chin.

"What the bloody hell happened to you, Harry?" asked the Slytherin concernedly.

Harry tried to answer him, but all that Draco heard was, "Mmmh… wannnnn, blllwmmmm!"

Draco had no chance to explore the mystery of Harry's tongue, for the Gryffindor wandlessly divested Draco of his trousers. Moaning quietly, Harry reached a hand into Draco's crotch and fondled his cock, which responded instantly to Harry's languorous strokes - its head rubbing across Harry's upturned palm.

Harry knelt down in front of Draco and tried to engulf his cock. But it was to no avail, because his enormous tongue got in the way. It was so slippery and big that he couldn't swallow the Slytherin's prick.

 _Bloody twins! This thing doesn't work. Hope their other stuff does or that shop in Hogsmeade will fail,_ thought Harry grumpily.

Draco placed a hand on Harry's tousled mane, stroking his head slowly. He brushed the hair off his forehead and gently rubbed his curse scar. "Go on Harry, eat me whole! Stretch your pretty mouth around me! Give me a kiss with your pouty lips!"

Harry savoured the musky scent of Draco, his thick girth stretching his mouth. It was then that he realised the twins' awful gift had worn off and he could try to swallow Draco - his tongue was back to its usual size.

Turned on by Draco's words, Harry closed his eyes - feeling only his stretched lips against the hard muscle. His tongue played with the head of Draco's cock as his nose was tickled by the blond's pubic hair. Harry motioned with the hand that wasn't grabbing Draco's cock and divested himself of his trousers. He palmed his needy cock as he took Draco as deep as he could.

"Your mouth's so pretty against my cock. Want you to eat me nice and slow, Harry!"

Harry's eyes fluttered open. He sighed, rubbing his palm against his leaking cock. With a loud pop, he reluctantly let the Slytherin's pink cock slid from his mouth.

Harry licked his lips and looked up at Draco. He frowned at the robes clothing his boyfriend and wandlessly vanished them, ignoring Draco's startled cry. Harry's eyes searched hungrily Draco's milky torso, his defined chest and biceps, the lines of his abdomen.

Draco's cock leaked as he saw Harry's pretty lips part. The Gryffindor squeezed Draco's shaft and gently, teasingly, rubbed the head across his lips. When Draco groaned and implored Harry to get on - the magic of the Vow incessantly clamouring in his veins to fulfil his words or die - the Gryffindor took pity on him.

Harry moved his head closer so he could slide the shaft into his mouth, rubbing the glans across his lips. He rubbed the cockhead against his lips, licking it with his normal-sized tongue. Opening his mouth, he gripped the cockhead between his upper lips and his tongue, sucking the head in and out. Keeping the prick just inside his mouth, Harry rubbed his own cock furiously, his palm lubricated by his own precome

"I want to fuck your face, Harry," said Draco hoarsely. "You look so good!" Draco moaned as Harry released his grip on his cock, opening his mouth wider and looking into those stormy eyes he loved.

Draco's desperation, the change from his usual poised demeanour, the desire that poured out of his mouth - this made Harry incredibly horny.

Harry reached behind him and inserted the tip of his index finger into his entrance, stroking in and out.

"You like my cock on your mouth, Harry?"

When Harry didn't reply - he was too immersed in the sensory experience - Draco took out his cock and slapped Harry's cheeks with it, leaving wet trails of precome and spit down his chin.

Harry looked up at the Slytherin - and his needy expression was an immense turn on for Draco. Harry nodded and eased his mouth back onto Draco's cock.

Draco grabbed Harry's hair, pulling him roughly onto his cock as the magical Vow sang in his blood, enhanced by his lust and his undying love for the irrepressible and infuriating Gryffindor.

Draco moved his hips, stroking the head of his cock against Harry's palate. He pressed Harry's head onto his cock and eased farther into the Gryffindor's voracious mouth. Each languorous stroke took his glans closer to Harry's throat.

Meanwhile, Harry was rubbing his cock, slippery with precome. He was close to coming due to Draco's rough yet tender treatment. But he didn't want to come until Draco did.

Draco began to thrust his cock into Harry's throat, gently, slowly. He'd dreamed of this moment, back when he was with Harry and the Gryffindor insisted on always topping, pretending that he was such a masculine bloke that he wouldn't deign perform such an act. Back in those days when Harry acted completely different, as if he was possessed. This was why Draco chose this imagery when he performed the Vow.

Harry was thrusting two fingers into and out of himself whilst he took Draco's cock, the passage into his throat made easier by his spit which drooled off the pale meat into Draco's pubes and balls.

Harry gurgled softly around the Slytherin's meat whilst Draco held his head tenderly in a secure grip.

Harry slid his lips down the thick shaft until he hit bottom. Though he'd felt the shaft stretching his other end, swallowing it was another matter, it demanded all his concentration. Hearing Draco's desperate moans drove Harry mad with lust as he alternated between shafting his own cock and slipping his index finger into his clenching entrance.

The wetness and the heat of Harry's mouth around his cock, the sight of the Gryffindor gagging on his thick shaft was too much for Draco. He started moving his hips wildly, pistoning in and out of that wet cavern as Harry's moans vibrated on his cock. Draco knew he couldn't last much longer.

Watching Harry coming undone, his arm moving as Harry stroked his own cock, the goosebumps that covered his arms - that was much more satisfying that fulfilling that dratted Vow. It was Draco's dream come true.

Draco gently tousled Harry's hair - a sharp contrast as he roughly fucked his hips into his face, spearing the head of his cock firmly into his throat. Harry chocked and gurgled but kept sucking.

Driven to distraction by Draco's moans, the feeling of the thick shaft impaling his mouth - the musky scent of Draco as he drove ever deeper into him, Harry came against his hand. His seed coated his fingers as his mouth gripped the Slytherin's cock tightly.

When Harry looked up at Draco, the sight of those viridian eyes he loved so much darkened with lust - the sight of his red lips wrapped around him, the impossibly wet and tight feeling of Harry's mouth was too much for Draco and he came with a shout.

The feeling of his orgasm coupled with the magic released by the fulfilled Vow was too much for Draco and he slowly slid to the floor, and it was only Harry's support that prevented his fall.


	21. Confrontation in the Ministry

 

After an exhausting journey flying through the south of England, Harry was ready to curse Moody's thoroughness. It had been fun flying over the Thames, but when they retraced their steps flying westward and the miles seemed to stretch forever, Harry's crotch ached, and not in a good way. He could only imagine what Tonks must be feeling, with the added stress of her pregnancy.

The wind stung his face, his joints ached and his legs seemed about to cramp. So it was with a sigh of relief that Harry saw the bright lights of Salisbury below. The group followed the meandering Avon River, and when Harry saw the slim spire of the medieval cathedral shining below, he decided he would visit it later, preferably with Draco.

They flew northwards and passed over a thick forest. Harry was flying next to Tonks, so he noticed her sudden disappearance. Harry abruptly swerved and retraced his path, worried that the journey might have been too strenuous and she might have fallen off her broom.

But it was an unfounded fear because Harry saw Tonks flying a holding pattern.

"What are you doing?" shouted the brunet. During a break in the cloud cover, Harry saw several huge monoliths bathed by the moonlight scattered on the plains below, like toys discarded hastily by a giant toddler.

Tonks approached Harry, her hair a riotous mixture of fuchsia and pink whipped every which way by the strong wind, hardly visible in the scant moonlight. "Flying over the ley lines! They're great for your health!"

Harry shook his head. Sometimes he just didn't understand Tonks at all.

The witch pointed downward with her arm. "Recognise that? It's Stonehenge!"

"Quit dallying, you two!" shouted Moody. The Auror swerved just to the left of them. He appeared to be grouchier than usual.

Harry frowned. _Moody's angry because he can't get to his firewhiskey whilst he is flying._

"We're almost there, hurry!"

The group arrived at the Manor just after midnight.

Harry felt a liquid sensation running all over his body, trying to recognise him. The intent was hostile at first, but when Harry's magic reacted to the Manor wards; their magic caressed his skin in a pale imitation of Draco's fingers. Harry shivered, enjoying the ghostly feeling of the wards, it felt just like when Moaning Myrtle passed through him, but it had an erotic tinge. He felt his sex beginning to stir. The magic soothed his aching legs, acting like a magical massage.

Harry dismounted from his broom, gingerly stretching his legs. The tall hedge in front of him formed a dark passage straight to the Manor's iron wrought doors. Tonks approached him, clapping his shoulders. "All right, Harry?"

"I'm fine, Tonks." Harry eyed the young Auror, taking out his wand from his jeans, ready to cast a healing spell in case Tonks needed it. "Aren't you a bit sore? You know, from the flight?"

"That's what Cushioning charms are for, Harry!"

"Why didn't you tell me?" growled the Gryffindor.

Tonks grinned unrepentantly; there was a quality to her wicked smile that made it easy to remember that she was Sirius' and Draco's cousin. "It escaped my mind."

Kingsley touched Harry's shoulder reassuringly. "Tonks has had Auror training, Harry. She's learnt to adapt to harsh situations. We often have to endure nights in the open, chasing suspects hundreds of miles."

Moody smiled fondly at his protégé, a gesture that softened his harsh features. "Quite right. Tonks is a very good Auror, though a maladroit one."

Tonks glared at the grizzled Auror. "Not that clumsy, I'll let you know."

They arrived at the doors of the Manor. Tonks nudged Harry. "Go on, touch it! My aunt told me the wards will open for you and your friends."

Harry put his hands on the cool iron gate, noting that the wrought vines shined eerily in the starlight. The wards recognised Harry's magical signature and the door opened with a creaking sound.

The walk through the Manor's garden had a strange quality for Harry. There were all kinds of strange plants that appeared quite ominous in the night. A silver ghostly shape approached them, cooing softly. To Harry's tired gaze, it appeared to be a Patronus.

But when Moody growled menacingly at it, the figure scampered away with a clucking sound.

"Bloody peacocks!" said Moody.

The two Aurors who joined them over the Thames, Alan Swann and John Doherty, snickered softly.

"Quiet, you two!" grunted Moody.

"See, you even scared the poor bird," said Kingsley in his rumbling baritone voice.

When they arrived at the door, Tonks got a hold of the huge dragon's head that served as a door knocker and pushed it against the oak door.

A small house-elf opened the door. She had thin green arms that poked out of her toga-like garment. Peering closely, Harry realised the elf was dressed in what appeared to be a Roman toga. The elf squeaked excitedly when she saw the group. "Mistress waits for you in the parlour, sir Potter!"

"Please call me Harry."

The elf bowed her head until her large nose was perpendicular to the floor. "As master Harry wishes, Curly will show sirs and madam the way."

Whilst the group made their way to the parlour, Curly's big eyes scrutinised Harry. The brunet squirmed and finally asked the elf, pointing at the frayed toga. "Where did you get that?"

Curly puffed up her thin chest proudly. "These are master Draco's first Quidditch robes." Curly poked her chest with a long finger. "Dobby and Curly took care of young master Draco. After Dobby escaped, master gave me his robes."

Harry laughed, imagining Draco playing Quidditch with those tiny robes. The Slytherin must have been five for them to be so small.

Narcissa was reading a book whilst she waited for them. She stood up and walked regally towards the Aurors and Harry.

Kingsley bowed shallowly and touched the shoulders of the two Hufflepuff Aurors. Looking sideways at Moody, he said, "Mrs. Malfoy, we have to return to London. Albus is expecting us."

The Aurors walked towards the door but Narcissa's voice stopped them. "Why don't you Floo directly to the Ministry, gentlemen?"

"Indeed, we might do that, Mrs. Malfoy. The flight was exhausting," said Kingsley.

"Curly, please show the Aurors to the Floo."

Moody's feet shifted restlessly on the wooden floor. Finally he said, "I'll go with you, Kingsley. I leave Harry in the capable hands of Tonks."

Moody took his hip flask and took a healthy swig of firewhiskey, unmindful of Narcissa's censorious look. Then he limped towards the Aurors and the group left the parlour led by Curly.

Harry blushed when his stomach rumbled. While the Dursleys treated him more carefully after Moody's warning, they weren't precisely liberal with their food. Only the care packages thoughtfully provided by Mrs. Weasley kept him somewhat full.

"You can order a late snack in your room, Harry," said Narcissa, smiling at Harry. The blonde woman exchanged a knowing look with her niece. "The elves cleaned a room next to Harry's for you-"

Observing Tonks' scowl, Narcissa tried to hide her smirk. _I don't know why Nymphadora dislikes her name so much. It has so much class._

"- my dear Tonks."

Narcissa looked at Harry's tired visage. "Harry, I took the liberty of inviting your two friends, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. They'll arrive tomorrow, I trust that's all right?"

Harry beamed. "Thanks, Mrs. Malfoy!"

When Curly returned, Narcissa said, "Now the elf will take you to your rooms. Have a good night!"

* * *

In the Wizengamot, Blaise's boredom had finally forced Draco to accompany his friend in an impromptu tour of the Ministry.

"Those bloody old coots can't stop talking!" Blaise stopped in front of the elevators, fidgeting with his robes.

Draco put his hand over his mouth, yawning discreetly. "Political deliberations take time, Blaise."

Blaise stood on his tiptoes, glaring at his best friend. "They could stop insisting that only they know precisely how Merlin would handle our present troubles and just say plainly what they intend to do!"

Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "You know politicians; they love to hear their own voices."

Just before the elevator door opened, Blaise mumbled, "Like someone I know!"

"What did you say, Blaise?" Draco stepped into the elevator behind his Slytherin friend.

"Nothing, Draco. Nothing you want to hear." Blaise punched a button at random, and when the elevator jerked sideways, he grabbed Draco's waist.

The blond smirked whilst he held to the metal cord hanging from the ceiling with his left hand. "Thankfully Harry isn't here or he might get jealous."

Blaise started to say something, but right then the elevator lurched to a stop.

The two Slytherins stepped into a darkened hallway. The black stone walls seemed to shine unearthly by the light of the sconces.

"Don't care what Potter does, I can take him!" Blaise smiled deviously, looking in both directions of the corridor.

Draco sauntered to the left of the corridor, turning to smirk at Blaise. "Would like to see you try to fight him!"

They bantered back and forth until they arrived at a huge circular hall, with doors forming the spokes of a wheel.

Blaise looked at the gloomy hall, sighing. "This place is creepy. Can't wait to get out of here. The old coots might..."

Draco grabbed Blaise's robes and pointed at the intersection of the two spokes in front of them, about sixty feet ahead. Blaise squinted, seeing a ghostly figure hurriedly opening a door, its head white as snow.

"That's the old man who rescued me! I wish Harry were here!" Draco sprinted ahead, turning to look at his friend. "Let's see what he's up to!"

* * *

Harry tossed and turned in the comfortable bed which felt as soft as if it was made of feathers. The bedroom felt strange, too spacious compared to his small one at Privet Drive. A thousand thoughts whirled through Harry's mind. _I wonder if Draco's ok. Won't the Death Eaters try to revenge themselves, especially that bitch, Bellatrix?_

Realising he'd lost the battle to fall asleep; Harry crossed his hands behind his neck and stared at the ceiling. _I hope Ron is taking good care of my hedgehog. Frankly I didn't like the looks Hedwig sent Hector's way. And leaving him with Hermione was out of the question. Crookshanks has a bad reputation regarding rodents. Though how I wish he'd eaten Wormtail!_

Harry yawned. A few minutes later he was falling asleep until a loud popping sound woke him up.

"Sir!"

Propping himself on his elbows, Harry searched for his glasses on the night table and put them on. He peered at the dark room dimly illuminated by the light of the sconce until he espied two big eyes that were gazing at him adoringly.

"Dobby! What's going on?"

"Sir's friend, the Malfoy boy, needs him!"

Harry stood up and opened the dresser, reaching his hand to grab the jeans and robes he'd taken off an hour ago.

"Draco! What happened to him?" Harry dressed rapidly. He went to his trunk and opened it to grab the Invisibility Cloak.

Dobby fingered the ragged edges of his sweater. "Dobby was following him. He's at the Ministry, and..."

"Take me to him, Dobby!"

Harry frantically threw the Cloak over himself and Dobby. The elf smiled nervously at Harry and grabbed his hand, taking them out of the Manor by elf apparition.

Harry felt the usual wrenching sensation and after the world's ghostly pattern shifted into place around him, he saw through the Cloak the figures of Draco and Blaise.

Blaise was tugging Draco's robes. "Don't go inside! He might be dangerous!"

Harry took out the Cloak and touched his boyfriend's shoulders. Draco jumped into the air, and turned to the newcomers, clenching his wand with his fingers.

The blond sighed in relief when he recognised Harry. He glared at the brunet and the elf. "You scared me out of my wits!"

Blaise commented sarcastically, "As if he has any!"

Draco scowled at the Slytherin. "You wait till I tell Pansy!"

Blaise shivered and tried to shrug nonchalantly. Harry held up his arms, a frown on his face. "What's going on? Dobby said you were in trouble."

Draco frowned at his former elf. Dobby stepped nervously backward, touching the hem of his garishly coloured sweater. "Dobby heard the Malfoy boy said he wished sir Harry Potter was here!"

Draco huffed. "Dobby, you're still following me around?"

Trying to stave off the confrontation Draco-Dobby, Blaise explained, "Draco and I are following an old man that this twit-" Blaise pointed to his scowling friend.

"-Recognised whilst we were strolling."

Harry looked around, realising they were in the Ministry, near the Department of Prophecies. He lifted an eyebrow, asking sarcastically, "You just happened to arrive here?"

The black Slytherin crossed his arms. "What can I say? We were bored with all those silly politicians babbling on and on."

Draco pointed with his right hand to a door with a silver doorknob which was shaped like a round snake. "We're waiting for the old coot to step out of the room. I suspect he's behind the vote of no confidence."

Harry shook his head wonderingly. "What vote of no confidence?"

Blaise shrugged. "Someone's trying to get rid of Scrimgeour. Smart move, if you ask me!"

Draco smacked Blaise's shoulder. "No one's asking you, Blaise. I just have a bad feeling about the old man."

Harry's head followed the bickering Slytherins as if he was watching a tennis match. He moved towards Draco and pointed a finger at the door. "The old man who..."

"Rescued me when I was hurt in Voldemort's lair, Harry. The same one," replied Draco.

Harry touched his wand, securely lodged inside his pocket, and with a swift movement, he took it out. _It's time we get some answers from the old man. I reckon he is too much the Slytherin. After Dumbledore's strange behaviour, I don't trust old men._

At that moment the strange doorknob turned, gleaming by the light of the sconces. The three boys followed intently the figure of the old man as he stepped gingerly into the hall.

The old man, Antares, froze when he noticed the three. He made to run away but Harry jumped on him, followed an instant later by Draco and Blaise. The boys piled on the white-haired man wearing dark glasses, and the four fell to the floor, their limbs tangled.

"Gerroff me, silly boys!" shouted Antares in a very angry voice.

"Not until you tell me what you intend!" yelled Harry.

"Why do you want to get rid of Scrimgeour?" added Draco.

Antares scowled at Blaise, who was holding him by the lapels of his robes and drawled, "And you, what do you want?"

Blaise shrugged and stepped aside. "Just answer them, ok?"

The man batted away the hands of the Seekers and gingerly stood up, scowling at them from behind his glasses.

"I don't want to get rid of the Minister," growled Antares. "In fact, I want to derail this vote, and you-" He pointed his fingers accusingly at the boys.

"-might have changed the future in ways I didn't intend." Antares brushed his robes with a certain grace, and Draco noticed that the old man was wearing that strange silver ring shaped like a snake eating its tail. Draco was sure the ring was safely in his room at the Manor.

"How did you get back the ring?" Draco pointed at the man's left hand.

Antares shrugged, lifting the rim of his glasses with his right pinkie. "Doesn't matter. What I want to know is, did you get rid of the locket?"

Draco gulped, shrinking from Antares' evil frown and Harry's questioning gaze. "I forgot about that dratted locket! With all that was going on with my life. I just..."

"What locket?" asked Harry.

"Do you have it?" interjected Antares.

Draco crossed his arms, gripping his wand nervously. "Actually, no. Someone stole it from me. I swear I had it with me when we returned to Hogwarts, but after-"

Harry cocked an eyebrow, and prodded his boyfriend. "After?"

"You know, Harry!" Draco mumbled low under his breath, "The blow job..."

Harry blushed whilst Antares tapped impatiently with his left foot. "So the locket's gone! I knew I shouldn't have trusted horny teenagers in such important matters!"

Draco scowled ferociously at the old man. "And what is your part in the vote?"

"There's a faction of unrepentant Death Eaters that want to topple the government and set up a new Minister of Magic that will grant them what they want." Antares strolled leisurely away from the door, and the boys followed behind him.

"You must beware of your father, Draco," warned Antares. Turning to look at the fuming Slytherin, the old man added, "You might think he's changed his ways, but it is not so. He needs more time to digest the news of his Lord's downfall."

"Can't believe that!" replied the blond irately.

"You'd better. You know how stubborn Lucius can be. Give him more time," said Antares, straightening his robes.

"I don't trust Scrimgeour," said Harry whilst he gently took Draco's hand. "He wants to use my fame to prop up the Ministry!"

The old man turned to look at the brunet. "Everyone wants your fame, Harry. You can consult your Gryffindork friend, Hermione. While you're at it, you might also remind her of the curious incident of the cat in the night-time."

Antares waved a finger in his direction. "And there are worse things that a Minister can do, Harry."

Out of the hall, they arrived at an intersection of three corridors. Antares stopped abruptly as Harry was asking, "But what can the Death Eaters do now that Voldemort's gone?"

"My bloody luck is getting worse!" growled Antares. The old man opened a door and in his haste, his glasses fell to the floor.

Blaise picked them up and when he was about to hand them over to the man, he noticed his eyes glinting in the dim light of the overhead sconce. They were a very light colour, almost the same hue as Draco's.

Before he could do anything, Antares closed the door with a bang.

Blaise fumbled with the doorknob and opened the door. "Hey, you forgot your glasses!" When he peered into the gloomy, cavernous room full of strange silver devices, Blaise realised that the old man had disappeared. "Blimey, the old coot is fast!"

Shrugging, the Slytherin pocketed the glasses. "Who wears dark glasses at night?"

Draco and Harry entered the room, staring at the shiny whirling objects, not unlike those in Dumbledore's office.

Harry jerked Draco's sleeve. "What locket was the old coot talking about?"

Draco shrugged nonchalantly, turning to smirk tiredly at the Gryffindor. "The man, Antares, told me to destroy it."

The blond poked Harry on the ribs, winking. "Who knows? It might be one of those mysterious Horcruxes of yours. The ones that cause all kinds of mischief!"

Draco laughed quietly whilst Harry fumed. Granted, Harry had come up with the notion of the Horcruxes in the spur of the moment, but that didn't give Draco the right to laugh at him!

Dobby timidly tugged Harry's trousers. "If sir doesn't need Dobby anymore, can Dobby return to Hogwarts?"

Harry nodded whilst he glared at his smiling boyfriend. "Sure, Dobby. Thanks and sorry for all the trouble!"

Dobby nodded and stepped back, disappearing with a loud popping noise.

The boys made their way to the elevator. Once it was going up, Harry turned to Draco and smiled. "Your mother invited Ron and Hermione to the Manor, she's very nice!"

Draco scowled angrily, stabbing the button of the Wizengamot floor repeatedly. "Bloody hell! Now I've got to share my house with the Weasel and Granger!"

Harry shook his finger at Draco. "You must admit you admire Hermione."

"Well, she has a thirst for knowledge that I can certainly understand," drawled Draco.

"Nerds!" muttered Blaise. He and Harry exchanged a wry smirk.

Draco turned and glared at his best friend, smacking his shoulder.

"The prince can't take a joke," mocked Blaise. Raising his voice, he added, "Since Ron is going to be at the Manor, I might visit you, Draco."

The blond raised his arms to the ceiling. "Great! Now Pansy will probably come, too!"

Draco took out his wand and twirled it around his fingers. "What's with you and Weasel anyway?"

Blaise said softly, "When we were kids, Ron and I were best friends, but suddenly he stopped visiting. He didn't come over to play anymore."

Harry raised an eyebrow inquiringly.

"When we were at Hogwarts, we just pretended we didn't know each other." Blaise scratched his head. "Can't figure out why he became so distant all of a sudden."

The elevator screeched to a stop and the boys got out. Once they'd reached the Wizengamot, they found that most people had left.

The Headmaster was whispering to Minerva McGonagall. When he noticed the boys, Dumbledore coughed discreetly.

Harry started to say something but Dumbledore interrupted him. "I can't imagine why you're here, my boy. But since you are, may I request the pleasure of your company for a little expedition?"

Draco stepped in front of Harry. "Where are you taking him?"

"To do something that desperately needs to be done if we are to continue to enjoy peace," replied the Headmaster calmly.

Remus stepped softly behind the boys, squeezing Harry's elbow.

Trying to diffuse the tension, Blaise asked, "And the vote? Did they force Scrimgeour out?"

Remus answered softly, "The vote was close, but ultimately it was defeated. I was looking for you, Draco, to go back to the Manor. I see Harry managed to find his way here."

Harry blushed, mumbling, "Actually, Dobby brought me here."

Remus smiled indulgently. "I must say Agricola Ogden seemed a little subdued after the result of the vote was known."

Harry snorted. "What a ridiculous name! Can't tell if it's a man or a woman."

Draco glared at his boyfriend. "For your information, Harry, that's a proper pureblood name!"

Blaise held up his hands. "Can't you two stop fighting for once?"

Remus touched his moustache with his right hand, trying not to snicker.

When the Seekers turned to glare at the Slytherin, Blaise added, "You sound like a pair of old coots that have been married for years!"

Remus coughed behind his hand, trying to repress his chuckles whilst Dumbledore laughed richly.

The blond and the brunet blushed, scowling at the Slytherin who suddenly espied his mother. "Mom's here. I'll see you later, Draco and Harry."

Remus took out a cigarette case from his left pocket. Observing its gleaming surface, he said, "I don't know about you boys, but I'm very tired. I intend to use this Portkey and sleep in a warm bed next to my wife. Are you coming?"

Draco touched the metallic case as did Harry. With a nod to the Headmaster, Remus muttered the password and the three were whisked away by the Portkey that took them to the Manor.

* * *

In the Old Barnes cemetery in Wandsworth , three cloaked figures were standing around a desecrated grave. The slim woman held her wand aloft, its tip glowing with the light of the Lumos spell.

The fat man bowed subserviently to the woman, whose hair blew wildly with the strong breeze. The man held a bone in his silver hand. "You are magnificent, Bellatrix!"

"I don't need your praise, scum!" growled Bellatrix Lestrange. "Just make sure that unworthy bone is safe, because we'll need it for the final resurrection of the Dark Lord."

Wormtail bowed again, holding the slim bone as if it was a precious thing.

Bellatrix glared at the bulky silhouette of a man. "And you, Slughorn, are you sure you heard correctly?"

Horace Slughorn bowed obsequiously. "I heard it with my own ears, Bellatrix. Just after that brute tried to crush me with his immense weight, he mentioned that Dumbledore's wand was the most powerful of them all."

Bellatrix snorted angrily. "So what? Dumbledore still has it. We'd have to storm Hogwarts to get it, and we are weak at the moment, bereft of the Dark Lord's magical strength!"

Slughorn smiled evilly. "You are wrong, Bellatrix. Hagrid distinctly said that the wand now belonged to the person who disarmed Dumbledore-" The portly man snorted in disgust.

"-That crazy Auror, Alastor Moody."


	22. The spider's web

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Discussion of past non-con (not Harry or Draco)

 

In Dumbledore's office, Moody stared hungrily at the Pensieve, fingering the memory vial he'd stolen from Albus. "You won the vote, Dumbledore. Doesn't matter though, things will remain the same because all politicians are liars."

Moody limped towards the desk. He hadn't had the opportunity to see the memory. Every time he tried, Albus got in the way.

"The Wizengamot vote was very hard, Alastor. But the worst was averted." Dumbledore fingered his beard with a faraway look.

"You don't have to tell me, Albus. I work in the Ministry." Moody took out his silver flask and hefted it carefully, measuring its weight.

"Hopefully Scrimgeour will finally free Stan Shunpike."

Moody pointed to Albus with his flask. "Yes, now he has many real Death Eaters locked in Azkaban; though that scum, Bellatrix, is free. Things worked out, Dumbledore. But I don't hold with your other plans, like leaving Potter vulnerable."

Dumbledore leaned towards Moody, trusting in the Auror's paranoia, if not his keen intellect. "I've been trying to get Scrimgeour to pressure the goblins to open one of their vaults - to get at one of Voldemort's Dark artefacts - but to no avail."

Dumbledore sighed resignedly. "The goblins are proud of their independence."

Moody snorted and took a healthy swig of his firewhiskey. "You can't just storm into Gringott's, Dumbledore. Heard they had a dragon down there."

Moody waved the flask at the Headmaster. "Don't even think of sending Potter there, it's too dangerous!"

Mad-Eye took another swig from his flask, noting that there was something missing in the office. His magical eye whirling madly, he asked, "Where's Fawkes?"

Dumbledore waved his arm towards the window. "Outside. He flies where he wills, as is the wont of phoenixes."

Moody pocketed his flask and growled, "That's your answer, Dumbledore! Use Fawkes to get inside Gringott's and steal that artefact."

Dumbledore shook his head ruefully. "I can't, Alastor. Fawkes can only appear to help a distressed Gryffindor. Although-"

Moody watched worriedly Dumbledore's twinkling eyes. "Don't, Dumbledore! Do not think of using Potter as bait to get Fawkes there!"

Moody absent-mindedly took out a whirling silver contraption. Trying to distract the Headmaster from his crazy schemes, he said, "There's a simpler way. Just get hair from the owner of the vault and use Polyjuice."

The Auror smiled wryly. "It works, I should know."

"Interesting idea, Alastor."

"Who's the owner?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange."

"There you go." Moody grinned wickedly. "Plenty of hair to spare. I bet she wouldn't notice if you took enough to make me a small wig."

Albus sighed whilst he stroked his beard. "But where is Bellatrix?"

* * *

In the Manor the next morning, the two Seekers were making their way to the dining room to have breakfast. Harry tugged his grey sweater, patting the back pocket of his jeans to make sure he had his wand with him. The Manor seemed a bit foreboding to the Gryffindor, used as he was to the homey atmosphere of the Burrow.

Harry smirked, deciding to hassle Draco a little bit. "Your elf wears quite strange clothes, Draco. Curly looked cute in your Quidditch robes."

Draco blushed and walked faster. "Curly is special. She took care of me when mother and father were busy."

"And you gave her your robes?"

Draco whirled around, glaring at the brunet. "It was the least I could do after she cared for me!"

"So she's a free elf?"

Instead of answering, Draco walked to the corner of the corridor. The oak floor gleamed and the walls were freshly painted beige. Just above the floor, the filigree threads of a web shined brightly in the morning sun.

Draco pointed to the corner, saying softly:

" _The spider's web_  
catches the Manor's sunlight,  
spins fluid diamonds."

Harry smiled, taking Draco's hand. This poetic side was something new he'd discovered in the blond. Right now, listening to Draco's smooth voice and watching the spider's web - this moment had a magic of its own.

Harry felt renewed as he remembered his own words from March. Life with Draco had numerous permutations, some happy, some sad. It was akin to a chess game; with Draco, the future seemed boundless.

But then Harry grimaced, recalling that he hadn't told Draco the truth - that he came from the future. After all they'd gone through he needed to come clean with his lover.

Harry had to trust the time spent together, that they had a more stable relationship built not only on sex, but understanding and love. Draco deserved the truth, nothing less.

Harry squeezed Draco's hand as they approached the door to the dining room. "That's wonderful, now say it in French!"

Draco smirked. "Give me time, Harry. I need to get in the mood."

Harry nodded to the house-elf that opened the door. "What about your Quidditch robes? Answer the question!"

The Slytherin scowled at Harry and stepped away, sauntering into the wide room. When he arrived at the table he sat down gracefully and then lifted an eyebrow. "Curly taught me how to ride a broom, ok?"

Harry hid his snickers and sat down next to Draco. "Really?"

Draco scowled at his scrambled eggs and ate delicately.

The smell of the fried bacon and sausage made Harry's stomach rumble. The Gryffindor dove into his breakfast, notwithstanding Draco's censorious gaze.

Draco pointed at Harry with his fork, which had a speared mushroom. "Well, Curly taught me how to call up the broom. Father had gone away to a meeting, mother was visiting a relative; I was all alone in the Manor."

Harry chuckled and Draco glared at him. "I was only four, ok?"

After taking a sip of goblet filled with pumpkin juice, Harry said, "Wish I could've seen you." He grimaced. "When I was four, I was in my cupboard all the time."

Draco laid his fork on the table and held Harry's hand, rubbing his thumb over his wrist. "I know, Harry. I wish you would let me curse those muggles for you."

"It's not necessary, Draco. Whatever Dumbledore says, I'm not returning to them anymore. After we finish Hogwarts, I'll get my own apartment."

"Our apartment, Harry!"

Harry beamed, spearing a slice of tomato with gusto. "It will be large and have lots of sunlight and space."

At that moment the door opened with a slight creaking sound.

"Mione, we don't need to do homework yet, it's only he beginning of summer break!" Ron stepped into the kitchen and stared mesmerised at the food displayed on the large wooden table.

"Ron, you need to get your work done! I won't have time to help you, what with my research and all!" Hermione stepped into the kitchen, brushing off the last vestiges of ash from her sweater.

When she saw Harry, she smiled widely, rushing to his side and ruffling his hair. "Hi, Harry!" She turned to Draco and gave him a shallow nod. "Malfoy."

"Granger." Draco nodded back.

Meanwhile, Ron sat at the table and without asking permission, started piling scrambled eggs, tomato, hash browns and baked beans onto the dish that was in front of him.

"Mate!" Ron clapped Harry's shoulders and nodded to Draco. Then he started swallowing his food.

Hermione sat beside her boyfriend. "Honestly, Ronald! You only ate two hours ago!"

Whilst he was munching on his hash browns, Ron answered, "Throwing gnomes around is hard work, Mione!"

Draco shared an amused glance with Harry and Hermione.

The witch sipped daintily from her goblet of pumpkin juice. "Thank you for inviting us over, Malfoy."

"It was mother's idea, Granger." Draco cleaned his lips with the linen napkin. "But since you are here, you might as well help me with research."

Hermione scrutinised the Slytherin's face. "Did you finish your homework?"

"Actually, not yet-"

Ron snickered, and bits of eggs flew around the table.

"-I just have to finish the Herbology essay," said Draco.

Hermione smacked Ron's elbow. "See, someone takes homework seriously."

"Nerds!" Ron exchanged a smile with Harry whilst Hermione and Draco glared at the two.

Despite the bantering of his friends and Draco, Harry's thoughts revolved around his unfinished business with the truth. Now that he had everything he wanted, Voldemort dead and Draco his, Harry couldn't afford to lose it all - to have Draco find out the truth later on and walk away from him. Harry felt he had postponed the moment of reckoning far too long.

Trying to drag the moment, Harry asked his redhead friend. "What about my hedgehog?"

Ron paused and took a sip of pumpkin juice. "I left it with mom. After all, Mione decided she wanted to bring Crookshanks here, and he was looking hungrily at your pet."

At that moment the ginger cat sauntered into the kitchen with his characteristic bandy-legged gait. Crookshanks sniffed disdainfully and approached the table, bypassing Hermione and going directly towards Draco.

Whilst Hermione glared at her cat, Crookshanks rubbed himself against Draco's wool trousers, purring delightedly. Draco took a piece of Harry's bacon and gave it to the half-Kneazle.

Harry glared at his lover. "Did you have to give him my bacon?"

Draco smirked, winking at Harry. "Better yours than mine, it's the Slytherin way."

Harry shook his head, wiping his mouth with the napkin. "Do you think the old man meant Crookshanks when he mentioned that incident of the cat at night?"

Hermione put her goblet on the table with a loud thump, asking excitedly, "What old man?"

"Yes, mate, what do you mean?" said Ron.

Harry realised that the cat was out of the sack, so to speak. It seemed this was the perfect moment to come clean, to his friends and Draco. He looked worriedly at the blond and pushed away the dish with the rest of his breakfast, having lost his appetite.

Harry fidgeted in his chair. "In the Ministry, Draco and I met an old man I know well."

Crookshanks jumped on Draco's lap, and the blond petted distractedly the half-Kneazle as he listened intently to Harry.

Harry evaded the searching gaze of the Slytherin, staring at the chandelier on the ceiling as he continued. "You see, this old man saved my life."

Heaving a deep sigh, Harry took the plunge. "I am from the future, you see."

Ron snorted, and a bit of sausage hit Hermione's sweater. "Harry, you've spent too much time with Fred and George. Don't try to prank us!"

Hermione tugged Ron's elbow. "Hush, Ron! Let him continue." The witch was recalling the memory in the Pensieve and the fact that their old friend had died in the future. But if Harry really came from that future….

"I barely remember it." Harry pushed back his chair and stood up, pacing back and forth in the huge room. "The memories are blurry since I came here. But-"

Curly popped next to the table, asking if they wanted anything else. Draco replied quite absently, "Not now, Curly. Please see we are not interrupted."

"- I felt so alone, so desperate," continued Harry. "I recall many people dying in the war. And most of all, Draco left me."

Ron stood up and angrily waved his finger at Draco. "See, I told you, Mione. The ferret…"

"Draco was right!" yelled Harry. "I treated him like scum!"

"I didn't want people to know that we were together." Harry leaned over the table, smacking his fist on the wooden surface. Hermione and Ron were startled. Harry pointed angrily at the Gryffindors. "Because I feared your reactions!"

Harry lifted his arms, shouting, "And everybody else's!"

He continued in a calmer tone. "But you know what? It didn't matter if I was with Draco or not. People rejected me when they found out I was gay."

Harry put his hands in the pockets of his jeans and tried to speak in a nonchalant tone, betrayed by his voice breaking. "I was so tired and alone when everyone discarded me after I vanquished Voldemort. And I lost Draco."

Crookshanks sauntered towards Harry as if sensing his dark mood and rubbed himself against his trousers, but Harry paid him no mind. Disgruntled, the ginger cat started licking his paws.

"I decided to kill myself," said Harry. Ignoring the surprised gasps of his friends and Draco, Harry rushed to finish the hardest part of his confession. "And the old man saved me by offering a way out, travelling back in time to correct my mistakes."

Draco looked at Harry with a worried frown. There was a deep sadness in Harry's face, quite the contrast with the often sarcastic quips he made. The blond shook his head. _Ever since the middle of March. Harry changed so much around that day. So it is truth._

"You came back on the ides of March, right'" whispered Draco.

"Yes. How did you know?"

"You acted differently. Gentler, the change was so sharp it was as if you were freed from a curse."

"So you suspected-" Harry sobbed, tears of anguish were running down his cheeks at the thought that his lover would reject him because he would feel used again. Because after all, Harry didn't change on his own, circumstances forced him.

Draco stood up and walked towards the distressed brunet. Gazing at Harry's emerald eyes, Draco said softly, "I knew something changed, but I rejoiced when you really listened to me. I rejoiced in the new chance that was opened for us."

Draco wiped away Harry's tears with the pad of his thumb, whispering:

" _La toile d'araignée_  
prend le soleil du manoir,  
adamantines larmes."

Draco pressed his forehead against Harry's. "Doesn't matter, Harry. I care only that we are together." Draco clutched his lover's shoulders. "You shouldn't have tried to kill yourself because of me. I'm not worth it. No one is."

Ron stood up and advanced timidly towards the Seekers. "Harry, you shouldn't have…"

Draco interrupted him, pointing at him and Hermione. "You heard Harry, Weasley." The blond snorted angrily. "It appears that you weren't very good friends after all."

Hermione hurriedly stood up and walked towards the bickering Hogwarts students. She stopped just behind her boyfriend.

Draco took off his lover's glasses and rubbed his thumb over the corner of Harry's eyes.

Harry scowled at Ron. "You are a homophobe, Ron. That's why I didn't trust you until the night we killed Voldemort." Smiling weakly at Draco, Harry took his glasses back and put them on.

Hermione lightly pushed Ron forward. The redhead turned to look at his girlfriend as Hermione lifted her eyebrow and pointed to Harry's face, wet with tears.

"Don't you think Harry needs to know the truth about you?" whispered she.

Squaring his shoulders, Ron prepared to tell Harry the truth. He walked to the table and plopped down on the chair. "Mate, the reason why I was so against you and Malfoy-"

Hermione went to Ron and put her arms around his shoulders. Her warm, comforting presence - her solidity and scent - acted like a balm on Ron's frazzled nerves.

"When I was a kid, Blaise-" Ron looked nervously towards Malfoy, expecting the blond to quip sarcastically or snort in disbelief. When nothing happened, he continued.

"-Blaise and I were friends. I used to stay at his house, and his friends would visit. One night Marcus Flint's cousin came over."

Draco crossed his arms. "And?"

Hermione glared at Draco as she rubbed Ron's shoulders. "Malfoy, don't! It's painful enough for Ron, don't make it worse!"

She threaded her fingers with Ron's. Glaring at Draco, the redhead said, "I swear if you use this for one of your plots, I'll kill you!"

Softening his gaze, Draco held up his arms. "I won't, Weasley. Wouldn't betray Harry's friends. I just want to know why you are so upset."

Ron shouted, "Flint's cousin molested me, all right! That's what you want to know? He did!"

Draco touched Harry who was trembling; he wrapped his arms around the Gryffindor. Draco could only imagine what must have been going through Harry's head. The blond recalled when Marcus Flint had taunted him cruelly, together with McLaggen and Smith.

"That's why you hated me when you found out I'm gay?" cried Harry. "You thought I'd molest you too!"

Harry waved his arms angrily. "I can't believe you, Ron! I just can't!"

"Harry, wait!" Draco left Harry's side and advanced towards Weasley. He stopped when he was between the two Gryffindors, turning an imploring look towards Harry. "I hate to side with Weasley, but you have to understand. Something like that leaves a deep scar."

"How would you know, Malfoy?" said Ron angrily.

"Because mother told me about one of her friends. She was almost raped by a Death Eater," said Draco, looking wearily towards the door that led to the parlour. Hopefully his mother was out of the Manor, because Narcissa disliked when someone broached this subject. "Luckily for her, mother noticed and sent the bloke to St. Mungo's."

Draco motioned to the door. "Come on. Let's continue this discussion in the library. Mother might come and frankly, I don't want the interruption."

Harry sighed wearily and went out the door. They passed the corridor with the spider's web. Draco ruffled the Gryffindor's locks, muttering, "I love you."

When they were in the library, Hermione eyed covetously the shelves filled with books. There were two library ladders, one in each side of the room, affixed to metal rails. They gleamed in the morning sun. But Hermione shook her head, thinking that research could come later, now was the time to finally clear the air.

After Ron sat down on a leather couch, Hermione put her arms around his shoulders and reclined her chin upon his ginger hair. As always, Ron felt comforted by the witch's scent. He lifted his arms, looking earnestly at his best friend. "I can't help it, Harry! It just tore me inside when I realised you were gay. But after seeing you dead-"

Harry was startled out of his wits. "What do you mean, dead? You saw me dead?"

It was Hermione who replied, "We saw a memory in Dumbledore's Pensieve. You were dead." Tears fell down Hermione's cheeks as she continued, "I never wanted you dead, Harry. You're my best friend!"

Now that the time had come to tell the truth, Harry didn't intend to pull any punches. He snorted. "Then why did you left me when it was obvious I was gay?" He squinted thoughtfully, as if measuring the truth of her words. "Do you have something against gays?"

Hermione shook her head sadly.

Harry raised his arms towards the ceiling, shouting angrily, "Why did you abandon me, Mione?"

The blond shook his head ruefully. He really wanted Hermione's help doing research. Besides, he knew Harry needed his friends. Draco recalled fondly the time when Harry spent time in the Dungeons, palling around with his Slytherin friends. It was time to return the favour.

Smirking, Draco sauntered towards Harry and tried to lift the mood. "Who knows, Harry? Perhaps Granger was so mean because she was wearing one of those horcruxes of yours."

Draco held up his arms and wriggled his fingers in a pose not unlike the one he used to mock Harry during Hagrid's class in Third Year, after the Dementor incident.

Harry snorted angrily. "There are no-"

But then he gulped, realising that he was hoisted by his own petard. Harry could not say that he made up the horcruxes without admitting that after Voldemort was vanquished, Draco was about to call Hermione a whore. And he didn't want the Slytherin and his friends fighting like cats and dogs again. So he forced himself to smile.

"You might be right, Draco... you might be right." Harry smirked wryly. "So let bygones be bygones. At least we're together again."

Harry's gaze shied away from Draco, for he had not told them the whole truth - that he had killed the younger version of himself.

* * *

McGonagall waved her finger imperiously at the grizzled Auror. "Alastor, what were you doing sneaking into Albus' office while he was away?"

Moody replied gruffly, "None of your business, Minerva! Just wanted to check on his phoenix." The Auror cursed McGonagall's thoroughness. Just when he thought it would be safe to enter the Headmaster's office and use the Pensieve while Dumbledore was away in one of his quests, McGonagall's charm alerted her someone had breached the room.

Minerva gazed sharply at the Auror whilst she fingered the parchments with the names of the Head Boy and Head Girl.

"Off with you, Alastor! I have to finish this." Minerva's gaze dropped to the parchment and she shook her head ruefully. _I don't know how Hogwarts is going to survive the Heads' strange tendencies._

Moody retorted indignantly. "It was you who dragged me here, Minerva!"

The Auror limped towards the door and opened it forcefully, muttering to himself, "Where will I find a Pensieve?"

After the Auror closed the door with a loud bang, Minerva returned her attention to the parchments, signing them with her characteristic flourish. She put them over the box which contained Albus' ring.

Minerva reclined on the chair and looked with satisfaction at her tidy desk. _I wonder what the new term will bring. With Voldemort finally gone, it should be a smooth year._

The Transfigurations teacher heard a whisper. "Minerva..."

McGonagall's gaze searched the room for any trespassers. When she found none, she stood up and went to the window.

"My daughter..." The whisper was as soft as the sound of the Black Lake lapping against the rocks.

Minerva shivered whilst she cast a charm to insure none of the Hogwarts' ghosts could sneak into her office. _Perhaps Peeves is trying to pull one of his pranks._

It was to no avail, for the whispery voice added, "Come to me!"

* * *

Moody was at wit's end. He needed to look at that memory; the Auror felt it was essential. But when he tried to enter Snape's office to use the Pensieve he knew was there, he found it was impenetrable due to Snape's wards.

In the afternoon, after Mad-Eye arrived to the headmaster's office, he cast a charm and realised McGonagall was inside. Growling, the Auror hit the gargoyle with his wooden leg.

Moody meandered through the corridors of the Seventh Floor until he arrived in front of a curious tapestry with dancing trolls. When the rocks of the wall started shifting fluidly, Moody's eye whirled madly.

"This must be the room Dumbledore told me about," mumbled the Auror.

Moody stepped gingerly into the gloomy room, noting with distaste the many books and the damaged furniture. The arched buttresses appeared malignant in the dim light. He picked up an axe, hastily putting it down when he realised it was bloody.

But as much as he searched the room, Mad-Eye couldn't find a Pensieve. Moody's eye whirled before he rounded a shelf. It had detected a glinting object.

Moody's hand slid through the dusty shelf and found a jewel - what appeared to be a tiara - just behind some mouldy books.

Moody picked up the tiara and his magical eye spun madly.

"I feel Dark magic in this," mumbled the Auror with a tired sigh and then sat down on a plush chair, next to an intricately carved cabinet.

Moody hefted the jewel in his hand. "Wonder if I can destroy..."

But before Mad-Eye could finish, he and the chair vanished away.

tbc


	23. The wand of destiny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Warning: Discussions of past non-con (not Harry or Draco)  
> _

 

Hermione was reading a heavy tome in the Malfoy library whilst Ron scrutinised the shelves, looking for another book. "Can't find that one, Mione!"

"Keep searching, Ron!" said Hermione distractedly, rubbing the fine vellum of the parchment. It crackled softly against her fingers, bespeaking its age.

Ron sat beside her and put a leather-bound thin book on the table, pushing it towards the witch. "Here, I found another book about Rome. Why are you so interested in that? Looking up ancient spells?"

Hermione brushed aside one of her curls before she replied, "No, it's something Malfoy said yesterday."

After a few seconds passed without Hermione elaborating further, Ron prodded her, "What did he say?"

Hermione lifted her gaze from the book and smiled tenderly. She reached across the table and wiped a dirt smudge off Ron's nose with the pad of her thumb. "He said Harry felt quite different after the ides of March."

Seeing Ron's puzzled look, she added, "That's the Roman way of saying the middle of March. That got me thinking-"

Hermione held up the ancient tome and cradled it carefully between her arms whilst Ron sighed impatiently.

"- about Rome. I remembered a myth from the Aeneid. It has to do with a Golden Bough."

Ron snickered. "What's that got to do with us?"

"The Aeneid links the fall of Troy with the foundation of Rome. It tells the tale of the Trojan prince Aeneas."

Ron crossed his arms, huffing. "That seems quite boring, like one of Binn's classes."

Hermione snorted angrily. "It's not, Ron. Myths are fascinating."

Hermione read from the book she was holding. "When Aeneas arrived in Italy, a prophetess, a sybil told him that-"

Ron snickered, reclining on the chair and holding up his hands. "Don't tell me! That was Trelawney's ancestor!"

Hermione glared at her boyfriend and continued reading. "That he would fight a war in Latium. But Aeneas wanted to visit his father in the underworld and the sybil said she would guide him through it only if he could find the Golden Bough."

Ron crossed his arms, obviously bored. "And?"

Hermione scowled at the redhead and put the book on the table with a loud thump. "Another name for the Bough is the wand of destiny!"

Ron sat up with a start. "A wand? And you think..."

The witch interrupted him. "Exactly. Virgil wrote that the Golden Bough can only be taken by the person destined to do so!"

Ron looked intently at Hermione, his eyes narrowed in thought. "Destined... that sounds like Harry. That wand of destiny, maybe it's his own?" Ron shivered.

Hermione crossed his arms, gazing at the wall of the library, full of books. Tomes that held information that remained uncovered unless one knew how to mine the knowledge.

Sighing tiredly, the witch continued, "When the sybil showed the Golden Bough to Charon, the guardian of the underworld, he granted access. Think about it, Ron! A wand that is used to safely visit the realm of the dead. A wand of myth, of destiny."

Hermione looked sharply at Ron, willing him to grasp her meaning. "A wand that could be used to raise the dead."

* * *

Draco was in the gardens of the Manor, pointing out the strange magical plants to Harry.

"Don't go near that one, Harry!" Draco pulled the Gryffindor by his sleeve just before the blood-red flowers creeping along the birch tree could close their deadly petals on his shoulder. "That's a dangerous one, just be careful, ok?"

Harry's gaze fixed on his lover, smiling adoringly at Draco.

The Slytherin stared at Harry's open face with a bit of trepidation. _Harry's told me the truth, painful as it was. I have to do the same._

Draco's brow furrowed as he took Harry by the hand and led him to a nearby copse, free of carnivorous plants. A slight breeze began to blow from the west, causing a commotion amidst the seemingly beautiful but deadly flowers.

Harry followed his boyfriend with a heavy feeling in his stomach. Draco's serious face portended nothing good.

Draco bade Harry sit down on a wrought iron bench. Harry plopped down, biting his lip nervously, ignoring the albino peacocks that chose that moment to coo softly around them.

"Harry, there's something I have to tell you."

"What?"

"That time when Voldemort died?" Draco worried his lip, afraid of Harry's reaction. Finally he took a plunge and rushed his next words. "It was not the first time I met the old man."

Harry looked at the blond with incredulity. "It wasn't?"

Draco grabbed Harry's hand, but after a few seconds he let it go. It wasn't easy for him to open himself up for Harry. It required a mental space that the Slytherin found hard to master.

"The first time was on the train, after-" Draco stood up from the bench and shooed away the proud peacocks, looking for something to do.

Harry was growing more alarmed by the second. Draco's demeanour seemed quite ominous. Gone was the sarcastic Slytherin that quipped about everything.

"- After you and the others hexed me on the ride home, after Fifth Year," continued Draco.

Harry gulped, recalling distinctly the incident. At the time it seemed the right thing to do, because it was Draco, Crabbe and Goyle who ambushed him. But later, much later, Harry realised the _DA_ had gone wild with the curses. He shivered, remembering Draco's tentacles. It all seemed quite funny then, now it appeared cruel.

"Draco, I'm sorry."

Draco waved away Harry's excuse and continued with his story. "After Cho helped me-"

Harry's guilt was surpassed by the exquisitely sharp feeling of jealousy that shot through his chest. He nearly growled, "Cho helped you?"

"Yes, she helped me get rid of the... things you riddled me with."

Harry lifted his gaze to the sky. He felt a mix of guilt, jealousy, and worry. Deciding to cut through the chase, he asked Draco, "And the old man?"

Draco sat down next to Harry, avoiding the brunet's gaze, instead choosing to stare fixedly at the gothic turrets of the manor. The breeze ruffled his blond hair as he rubbed his cheeks with the palms of his hands. "After Cho left, the old man entered the compartment. His name is Antares something or other."

"What did he do?"

"He told me I should befriend you to save my father."

When Draco tried to take Harry's hand, the brunet shied away. Harry stood up and started pacing furiously around the bench, furiously hitting the manicured lawn with his shoes and kicking up chunks of grass.

"So you became my lover only so your father could be free!" Harry turned to Draco with an accusing, betrayed look in his eyes.

Draco stood up and advanced towards Harry, his robes flapping in the wind that had picked up. "You don't understand, Harry!"

"I reckon I get it very well! You used me!" The brunet crossed his arms and bit his lips.

Draco sighed exasperatedly. "You know me, Harry. You know perfectly well how stubborn I am. Do you think I can be swayed by a stranger?"

"But you wanted Lucius out of Azkaban!"

"Indeed. But what the old man proposed, it was nothing I hadn't thought about." Draco continued earnestly, his pronunciation crisp and urgent, his usual drawl forgotten. "Remember the train during First Year? I wanted so much to be your friend, and that was years before the old man."

"But you became my enemy!" Harry started crying without noticing.

Draco yelled angrily, "Only because you ignored me!"

Then he added in a whisper, "When I provoked you, only then did you notice me!"

Draco grabbed Harry's hand. The Gryffindor tried to yank it away but Draco held on doggedly whilst he whispered, "Remember when you told me about chess?"

Harry nodded and Draco continued, his voice rising as he went on, wild and passionate. "You'll always find me opposite you, at the other side of the chess board: fighting, living, loving you."

Draco let go of Harry and spread his arms towards the cloudy sky. "You want infinite games? I'll give you that!"

Draco held Harry's chin as he gazed into the emerald eyes he loved so much. "Don't need anyone to tell me what I've always known - that we belong together."

Harry looked at Draco's earnest face; his eyes alight with passion, his blond hair ruffled by the strong breeze, his poise forgotten. It was this and Draco's sincere voice, bereft of any aristocratic composure that persuaded Harry of the truth of his words.

"So the old man didn't convince you-"

Draco held Harry's shoulders, pressing down his hands against his soft robes. He leaned his forehead so that it was almost touching Harry's. The strong wing whipped their hair so their strands touched. Draco whispered, "What we have can't be faked, Harry. It's what gave me hope in the days when you treated me so carelessly."

Harry looked up into Draco's eyes and he saw his own face reflected there. His tears made Harry's vision swim, and for a moment he fancied he could glimpse an infinity of Harrys trapped in the grey eyes he loved so much.

Draco took off his lover's glasses and kissed away his tears. Harry grabbed the back of Draco's neck and his lips sought the blond's. Their kiss was hot and fiery, desperate and soothing. Harry's teeth caught Draco's lower lip and he bit it.

Draco stopped the kiss and murmured, "Do you believe me now?"

Harry panted heavily, overwhelmed by the kiss. Grabbing hold of himself, he calmed down. "Yes, I do."

Harry sighed and holding Draco's biceps, took a step back. "Why did you tell me just now? Why not before?"

"Because yesterday, when you told us that you came from the future, you opened yourself. You were vulnerable." Draco sought to put into words his feelings. "It's what I wanted so much the first months we were together. That you would be open."

Harry essayed a smirk. "It was difficult, let me tell you."

"I know, and what you did requires me to be just as open."

A peacock chose that moment to step between the Seekers, pecking at Draco's trousers. Harry laughed. "Those birds really want attention, like their owner."

Draco lifted an eyebrow, smirking. "You are right, Harry. They are just like my father."

Harry swatted Draco's arm. "That's not what I meant and you know it! Come on. Let's see what Ron and Mione are doing."

Draco touched lightly Harry's elbow as the two students walked to the Manor. "Moody hasn't been around to teach us new spells. Guess he's with Lupin?"

Harry gingerly stepped out of reach of the deadly flowers, pointing vaguely to the east with his arm. "Don't know about Mad-Eye. Remus went to St. Mungo's; Tonks has not been feeling well."

"Hope it's nothing serious."

"Remus told me it had something to do with being a Metamorphmagus. At this stage of the pregnancy they go through some rough times."

"Did he tell Mother?"

Harry shrugged. "Don't know."

Draco opened the French window that led to the parlour. He motioned for Harry to go ahead, hearing a voice he knew well. "Draco, Harry, glad to see you aren't snogging."

"Blaise, nice you could join us!" Draco let go of Harry and grabbed Blaise's elbow. The black Slytherin smirked. "I couldn't let you alone amongst all the stubborn Gryffindorks." He winked at Harry. "Present company excepted, of course."

Blaise clapped Harry's shoulder, and the Gryffindor smiled as the trio walked out of the parlour.

* * *

In the library, Ron was busily devouring another cream scone whilst Hermione tutted disapprovingly. "Honestly, Ronald, I think you're abusing your privileges as a guest."

Ron said between bites. "No, Curly adores me."

He pushed a large dish filled with scones towards his girlfriend. "Have one."

"Thanks, I'll wait for lunch, Ron."

Hermione leaned towards him and lowered her voice. "Ron, I've been thinking about the memory we saw in the Pensieve."

"Yes?"

Hermione took out the napkin and wiped away some crumbs that were on his lips. "Do you remember how Crookshanks was quite friendly with the old man, Antares?"

"Can't say I do. But if you say so."

"And do you recall when we arrived here, how Crookshanks - the traitor - snuggled up to Malfoy?"

Ron took a swig from a goblet full of pumpkin juice. "So what?"

Hermione gingerly touched the topmost book that was on the mahogany table as if drawing strength from it. "The old man was very sarcastic. And that name, Antares. I think only a pureblood would use it."

Ron finished the scone and grabbed another one. "So you think the old man is Malfoy?"

"Yes." Hermione took the book and opened it randomly, fingering the soft parchment. "I think Draco came back from the future, to change the past and make it so he would have another chance with Harry."

Ron raised his eyebrow and shook his head. "Don't think so, Malfoy is rather cold."

Hermione took her goblet and sipped daintily. "But it all fits. The name, the sarcasm, and Crookshanks."

Ron pushed away the dish and stood up, looking at Hermione with a puzzled expression. "Harry said the man said something, a cat at night?"

Hermione shook her head. "I spoke with Malfoy before breakfast. The man's exact words were 'the curious incident of the cat in the night-time."

Ron shrugged. "Same thing."

"Not exactly. Those words are almost the same as a phrase in a Sherlock Holmes story."

Ron yawned. "Who's that bloke and why does it matter?"

"It's a muggle detective, like an Auror? It matters because in the story the key point is that the guarding dog didn't bark to alert them of the intruder. Therefore the dog knew that person very well."

Ron drummed his fingers against the table. "But if it's really Malfoy why would he give us that clue?"

Hermione gazed at the library ladder, a pensive look on her face. "I don't know, Ron. But the pieces fit very well. Perhaps Draco from the future is mocking us, knowing we would never arrive at the truth. After all, it would be a Malfoy thing to do."

The door to the library opened and Harry came in, followed by Draco and Blaise who were conversing animatedly. Hermione noticed that both Harry and Draco had their hair mussed and Harry's eyes were bright as if he'd been crying. For a moment she wondered if Malfoy had made him cry, but then she noticed that the Seekers were holding hands.

Blaise stopped in front of the table and bowed mockingly to Hermione. "Granger." Then he turned to Ron and bent down to slap his shoulder. "Long time no see, Ron!"

Ron smiled weakly and pushed the dish with scones towards the Slytherin. "Want some? The elves here bake them good."

Blaise sat down on the chair next to Ron with casual elegance and took one. "Haven't tasted them for a long time."

Blaise winked at Ron. "They're the reasons I come here. This-" He pointed to the dish. "And Narcissa."

Draco growled and Blaise hastened to add, "And the peacocks of course, mustn't forget the birds!"

Draco tried to swat Blaise's head but the black Slytherin evaded him easily. Blaise made tsking sounds and turned to the Gryffindors at the table. "Draco is so predictable!"

* * *

The Hogwarts students were conversing during dinner when Narcissa walked regally into the dining room.

She nodded affably to the Gryffindors and greeted Blaise. "How is your mother, Blaise?"

"She's fine, Narcissa. She just came back from her vacation in Italy."

Narcissa sat down at the head of the table and when Curly appeared next to her, she asked the elf to bring her only a salad.

"I already ate something at St. Mungo's" Narcissa explained when Draco looked inquiringly at her. "I'm pleased to say Nymphadora is doing all right and will be here tomorrow. Remus will stay with her tonight."

"And my aunt?" asked Draco penetratingly.

"Andromeda and I have a lot to discuss, my dragon," replied Narcissa.

When Ron snickered, Hermione nudged his elbow. Harry exchanged a wry smirk with Blaise as Draco fumed.

Pretending she didn't notice their rude behaviour, Narcissa continued, "I'm sure we'll eventually patch things up, but it will take time."

After Curly put a dish with crunched celery, crisp red tomatoes and onions in front of her Narcissa asked, "And how is Dobby, Harry?"

"Dobby is doing fine, Mrs Malfoy. He's at Hogwarts."

Narcissa looked reprovingly at the brunet. "Call me Narcissa, Harry."

"Sure, Mrs... Narcissa."

"And Kreacher? I trust the old elf recuperated fully from his injuries." Narcissa sipped her goblet filled with elf wine.

"Kreacher's fine, Narcissa. Still fights a lot with Dobby." Harry exchanged a smile with Draco. The two Seekers were often witnesses to the strange rivalry of the elves. In a way, it reminded Harry of his own fights with Draco.

Narcissa gazed at Harry and Draco. "Have you thought about how you are going to handle things when you return to Hogwarts?"

"Don't worry, mother," said Draco whilst he put down his goblet. "People are getting to accept Harry and me." The blond snorted angrily, "Of course, there are some thick-headed fools that reject us, like McLaggen, Smith and Marcus Flint."

Blaise put down his fork and leaned towards Draco. "Better watch out for Flint. He's going to be angry because his cousin was arrested and sent to Azkaban."

Ron stopped eating a particularly large sausage and blanched. He asked in a low voice, "What cousin?"

Without knowing the import of his words, Blaise continued, "The pervert, Avernius Flint. He preyed on young boys and girls. Mother told me he cast some sort of charm on his victims."

Blaise shrugged. "Don't know what it was. But he was found out and now he'll be in Azkaban for years."

Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione who put her hand on Ron's right shoulder, softly rubbing him.

Ron said weakly. "He also raped... girls?"

"Yes, the man's a criminal. But Marcus will surely be angry, he'll be looking for someone to bully."

Ron felt a weight lift from his shoulders. The criminal who'd hurt him badly was locked safely away. The man also hurt others. It wrenched his heart to think of the other victims of that predator, but it also lifted a weight from his shoulders. It wasn't that he was weak and let himself be taken advantage of, the man was pure evil.

* * *

When the students were strolling around the gardens in the afternoon, a sudden arrival caught them unawares.

The Headmaster walked up to them, nodding to each student in turn. Harry noticed that Dumbledore appeared more haggard, more worried than ever. His eyes didn't twinkle and he appeared to have lost weight.

The Headmaster crossed his hands and his expression softened when he saw his favourite pupil. "Harry, I have grave news to impart."

Draco put his hand on Harry's shoulder, standing beside his boyfriend.

"Alastor Moody has disappeared. He was last seen at Hogwarts, when I was away in urgent business."

Hermione asked concernedly, "Did you try to track his magical signature?"

"We thought of that, Miss Granger, but it proved unfruitful." Dumbledore fingered his beard whilst he walked with the students towards the Manor.

"I need your company for a little trip, Harry. I'll pick you up in the morning," said Dumbledore in a tired voice.

"Can I come, Headmaster?" said Draco. Ron asked the same question and Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid not, my boys. This is something that only Harry and I must attend to."

"Where are you taking him?" said Hermione.

"To a cave."


	24. The dream and the talk

 

Harry tosses and turns in the soft bed in the room right next to Draco's. He feels confined, trapped, as he struggles to wake up.

In the dream, there's an awkward jumbling of images and sounds. Resigning himself for the moment, Harry jumps into the vision - for it feels like that, with the same otherworldliness.

Harry hears a voice he despises, a timbre he detests heartily. Swimming into the here and now of the vision, the shadows disappear. He sees everything from a height above his usual one.

Harry shudders, hearing the cackling voice of Bellatrix. "The Ickle Auror is not so powerful now, is he?"

He looks down and sees Moody's defiant face. The grizzled Auror is trapped in glowing magical chains, his left eye whirling madly. But there's a sneer on his face, a set to his jaws that is typical Moody stubbornness.

"Bloody Death Eater. You got my wand, what more do you want? Might as well kill me," growls Mad-Eye.

The vision shifts, and Harry looks down at a slender wooden chair on the corner of a rundown room, next to dusty boxes.

"Slughorn, what should we do with the recalcitrant Auror?" asks Bellatrix. Harry looks around for her, but it is in vain, for Bellatrix Lestrange is invisible in this strange vision.

What happens next almost convinces Harry that he is dreaming, for it has the same surreal quality as a nightmare. The chair grows bulkier as it elongates, changing shape and growing taller until Harry espies the figure of a portly man. Not quite as fat as Uncle Vernon, the man wipes his pate, shining with sweat.

The man, Slughorn, bows courteously to Bellatrix. He ambles towards a rickety table and picks up a wand that Harry recognises as Moody's. During the gruelling training course Mad-Eye has inflicted on Harry and his friends, that wand has been trained countless times on the Gryffindor.

Slughorn touches the wand reverently and finally walks to Bellatrix and hands it over.

"This wand holds the key to our master's final victory, Bellatrix."

Bellatrix snorts disdainfully. "It's a wand like any other. Don't see how it can defeat the bloody brat."

Slughorn rubs his hands with glee as he explains. "That's the beauty of it, Bellatrix. When the Dark Lord returns and holds this wand, that will make him the master of the most powerful wand ever made, the Elder wand."

The vision moves jerkily, and Harry peers outside a grimy window, towards a forest dimly lit by the waning moon.

"So you say, Horace." Bellatrix' voice sounds wistful, bereft of its usual madness. Harry sees a slim hand rubbing circles on the windowpane. "The Dark Lord will finally defeat Potter. He was so close to finding another path to immortality when the stupid brats dared to stand on his way."

Harry feels the ground shaking, as if someone jostles him. Bellatrix continues in a rising voice. "It's Draco's fault! The useless brat made this whole thing happen when he rescued the other blood traitors, and-" Bellatrix pauses, screaming the next words. "The traitor Snape killed our Lord!"

Then Harry watches Moody looking up at him with a careworn face, his magical eye strangely quiescent as the Auror snarls. "I'm not afraid of you, Death Eater!"

"Take him to the dungeons, Slughorn!" Bellatrix barks the order and the portly man hastens to obey.

Whilst Moody struggles to stand up, Slughorn says, "The potion is ready for the ritual, Bellatrix."

Slughorn and his prisoner move to the centre of the room and Slughorn pushes a box with his shoe. "The bone, the potion and-"

The portly man points to Harry, smiling obsequiously. "- The jewel our Auror friend found for us in Hogwarts."

Bellatrix cackles madly. "I don't feel smarter. Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem doesn't work!"

Slughorn smiles up at Harry, and the Gryffindor realises he is seeing things as if he were upon Lestrange's head - as if Harry was the diadem they're talking about.

Lestrange's next words chill Harry's heart and his surprise catapults him out of the vision. "The Horcrux will help us bring back the Dark Lord! He will avenge himself!"

Someone shakes Harry, shouting urgently, "Wake up! By Merlin, Harry, wake up or I'll call Weasley and Granger!"

Harry chokes back a sob whilst strong arms embrace him. He looks up at Draco's eyes, dimly lit by the candles on the night table. The Slytherin's face is full of concern as he wipes Harry's forehead.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Draco. Just hold me, ok?" Harry isn't sure if he had a particularly vivid dream or a vision. He wipes his forehead, squinting at his hand. There's no blood and no pain. Harry is almost tempted to call what he saw a jumbled nightmare born out of his worry about Moody. Yet it all fits together.

Draco climbs on the bed and spoons Harry, whispering in his ear, "Go back to sleep. I'll stay with you. Doesn't matter what mother said!"

Harry smiles. The sound of Draco's rhythmic breathing lulls him. Just before he falls asleep Harry has a disturbing thought. _If what I saw is real, then that means Horcruxes do exist and bloody Voldemort is coming back._

* * *

The next morning Harry woke up in a bad mood. He wondered if what he saw was real or not. He felt a certain detachment regarding the vision, it didn't feel like the ones he had when Voldemort was alive.

Harry succinctly explained the vision after Draco asked him about the nightmare. When Harry described the fat man, Draco cringed. The Slytherin told Harry that his description fit Horace Slughorn, Voldemort's presumed spy who was not in Azkaban.

Harry's mood took a dive when he realised the vision was probably true.

During breakfast, Harry and Draco replied mostly with monosyllables to Ron, Hermione and Blaise.

Their friends took the Seekers' sullen mood in stride and when they finished eating, Hermione grabbed Ron's hand, towing him to the Manor library.

"Coming, Malfoy?" asked Hermione when she was at the door.

"In a while, Granger. Blaise and I are going to visit Pansy."

"We are?" Blaise frowned, putting down his goblet filled with pumpkin juice.

"Pansy will be mad if we don't go, Blaise." Draco lifted an eyebrow, looking inquiringly at his lover. Certainly Harry could do with a little distraction from the vision.

Blaise shrugged, smiling impishly at Weasley. "You heard the man, Ron. We'll join you later."

Hermione grabbed Ron's hand and seemingly yanked him out of the dining room, missing thus the entrance of the Headmaster.

Dumbledore's beard was unkempt and his hat was a dull grey, just like his thin robes.

Draco turned to Harry, asking in a low voice, "Want me to come with you, Harry?" The Slytherin didn't trust the Headmaster alone with Harry but he also knew how stubborn and independent the Gryffindor was.

Harry frowned at Dumbledore who was imposing on him and ordering him around. "No, I'll be fine, Draco. You go with Blaise." He rubbed his forehead, nursing a pounding headache. Harry felt exhausted because of the nightmare.

Draco nodded to Dumbledore on his way out, looking sharply at the Headmaster as if to warn him against pulling another stunt like the night Voldemort died.

On the way to the garden Dumbledore took out his wand, preparing to Apparate. Harry noticed that it appeared to be smoother. It lacked some knobs.

"Did you change wands, Headmaster?"

"I'm afraid so, my boy." Dumbledore smiled at a peacock that pecked his robes. He rummaged inside his pockets and took out a bag of birdseed. "My old wand is in Minerva's office. It doesn't respond to me anymore."

Dumbledore grabbed Harry's elbow and with a swish of his wand he Apparated out of the Manor.

* * *

Hermione was climbing the library ladder, squinting at the books in the Greek section.

"I could grab them for you, Mione."

"I know, Ron. I just want to browse around. I have to research the _Ouroboros."_

"Blimey, what is that?"

"The ring with the serpent in the old man's hand? I think it's Greek." Hermione held two books in her right hand as she carefully climbed down.

Hermione opened the book on the polished mahogany table. "Wonder how the old man got the ring."

Ron pulled out a chair for Hermione, and after she sat down, he leaned on the table. "Malfoy, you mean."

Hermione pointedly looked at the chair on the opposite side. "I don't know, maybe the old man is Harry?"

Ron snorted in disbelief whilst he grabbed a book and sat down. "That man mocked our house, calling us Gryffindorks! Harry wouldn't do that. "

"Ron, Harry's changed. He's more sarcastic, if you'd pay more attention to him." Hermione read a few lines of the book and then looked up at Ron, frowning. "Future Harry could've interfered with the timeline because he wanted to rekindle his love for Draco. You must admit he's always been obsessed about Malfoy."

Hermione turned her attention to the book. Half an hour passed without them hearing anything but the scratching sounds of her quill as she took notes.

Finally she stretched her arms, glaring at the wall of books opposite her. "I can't find a connection between the ring and the Golden Bough! I'm sure there's one!"

Ron closed the Quidditch book he'd been reading and reclined on the chair. "You'll find it, Mione. Besides if the old man is Harry, we've nothing to worry about."

Hermione bit the tip of her quill, lost in thought. She looked at Ron with a puzzled frown. "That name, Antares? If that's his name, he might be Malfoy's son - it's a typical pureblood name."

Ron rolled his eyes whilst the witch continued. "He might be Tonks' son from the future. He wouldn't need Polyjuice to change his appearance so he looks older. He might be a Metamorphmagus!"

Ron threw his hands in the air, glaring at his girlfriend. "You're barmy, Mione! The old man is clearly Malfoy! Next you'll be saying he is Harry's father, or Sirius. Perhaps even Remus!"

Hermione scribbled enthusiastically on the parchment, smiling at Weasley. "Great thinking, Ron! I hadn't considered Remus! That would explain the dark glasses."

Ron furrowed his brow, rubbing his stomach as he wondered what time it was. "Remus and glasses?"

"If he is Remus he would wear dark glasses so his distinctive amber eyes wouldn't betray him," explained Hermione whilst she drew diagrams on the parchment.

Ron stood up and walked to the library ladder, grabbing a book at random. "If he doesn't want us to see his eyes, maybe the old man is You-Know-Who!"

Hermione tutted and rolled her eyes. "Remember the nose, Ron!"

Weasley turned to look at Hermione who was bent over a huge book, casting a spell to translate it.

Ron smirked as he walked towards her. "A simple glamour would fix that."

Hermione stopped reading; she looked up to gaze at the windowpane and the trees beyond, shuddering. "Hope it's not him."

Heaving a sigh, Hermione returned to her research. "But if you are right, Ron, it's vital that we learn more!"

* * *

Harry felt the wrenching sensation associated with Apparition whilst a strong wind whipped his hair. He looked around in wonderment, for they were precariously nestled upon a big rock. The heavy clouds hid the sun as the sea raged below them.

The Gryffindor put up his hands to protect his face from the stinging drops of water coming from below.

The emotions that were simmering inside Harry - the anger and resentment at the Headmaster for the things he had done - threatened to overwhelm him.

Harry shook his head angrily. _Why couldn't Dumbledore warn me? Why does he always keep information from me, things as simple as where we're going? Bloody hell, why are we here?_

Unaware of Harry's anger, Dumbledore pointed to the rock wall opposite them and said in a sombre voice, "We must go to that cave, Harry. It is necessary to defeat Voldemort and ensure our survival."

Hearing Dumbledore talk so glibly about survival made Harry's blood boil. He distinctly remembered his godfather Sirius and the fact that Dumbledore kept information from him. This led directly to Sirius' death.

In his mind's eye, Harry recalled poignantly Sirius' mischievous wink when he was drinking a glass of burgundy at Grimmauld Place. The Weasleys bustling in the kitchen lent the moment a feeling of warmth and family. A golden memory of his beloved godfather, the mentor he lost because Dumbledore liked to keep things to himself.

Harry glared at the unsuspecting Dumbledore who was prattling about how important the cave was. "Tom Riddle knew about this place, and what he-"

Dumbledore couldn't finish because Harry shouted, "I don't care what Riddle did! He's dead!"

Harry shied away when Dumbledore tried to grab him. He lost his footing on the slippery rock.

Harry lurched forward and spread his legs to gain more purchase as he continued yelling at Dumbledore. "And you tried to keep me from killing him, freezing me! Are you barmy or what?"

"I did it for your own good, my boy." Dumbledore replied conciliatorily.

"No, you didn't. You always keep things from me. Thanks to you Sirius died! If Snape hadn't killed Voldemort, he might've killed me!"

Dumbledore's voice rose in panic when he realised his attempts to pacify the irate Gryffindor were failing. "Harry, I did it for the greater good. I did it for you."

Harry snorted angrily and crossed his arms. "You mean you did it for your pawn's sake. That's all I am to you, Dumbledore. A pawn in your chess game!"

Dumbledore continued pleading with his student. "Harry, I did it to protect you."

"How come you've never taught me any combat spells?" shouted Harry. "How come Moody had to teach them to me?"

Albus looked intently at Harry's angry face, noting his defensive stance and the way the Gryffindor scowled at him. He nervously fingered his beard and tried to touch the smooth polish of his wand to calm himself, but instead he touched his father's wand. Dumbledore fleetingly thought about the times he'd been wrong - when his sister died because he was fixated on Grellert Grindelwald.

With a defeated sigh, Albus realised that Harry could not be pushed around any longer. It would seem that Dumbledore's actions when he tried to protect Harry so he wouldn't be possessed by Voldemort had obviously incensed Harry.

Dumbledore desperately needed Harry's help. Scrimgeour was a thorn on his side. Albus was sure that Voldemort would return again and Alastor Moody's disappearance was very disturbing indeed.

Squaring his shoulders, Dumbledore decided the moment had come when he had to level with Harry if he wanted the boy's help.

Turning his back on the cave, Dumbledore grabbed Harry's hand and Apparated them to the train station in Hogsmeade.

* * *

Harry wrenched his hand away from Albus, shouting, "Couldn't even warn me we were about to Apparate, Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore pointed wearily to the dirt road. "Walk with me, Harry. You are right when you say I've kept you too long in the dark. Allow me to explain."

Harry glared at his shoes as he walked beside the Headmaster.

Dumbledore began in a soft voice. "Have you ever wondered how Voldemort managed to return from the dead?"

Harry shook his head, staring at the road ahead. "I reckon he used Dark magic. Doesn't matter now. He is dead for good, isn't he?"

Instead of answering, Dumbledore paused whilst he framed his thoughts. "I suspected Tom Riddle had a way with Dark Magic, but I didn't know the extent of Tom's mastery of the Dark Arts until recently."

"What did you learn, Headmaster?" Harry bent down to grab a pebble from the road, throwing it at a tree as Dumbledore gazed at the forest.

"There is a Dark ritual involving murder. It tears the soul apart." Dumbledore took tentative steps towards Harry but stopped when the Gryffindor stepped away from him and continued walking towards the school.

Harry nodded distractedly. "I reckon a murder's the worst thing a person can do."

"Indeed, Harry." Dumbledore answered softly. "If the soul of the Dark wizard breaks in pieces, he could put a part of it on a cursed object. That part of his soul would anchor him to this world. If he died, he would eventually return due to that piece of soul."

Harry crossed his arms and then rubbed his forehead wearily. This news was more than he could take, but he wasn't that surprised. Remus and Tonks had prepared him for this with their talk of Hindu beliefs about reincarnation.

The Gryffindor had used that knowledge to invent his 'Horcruxes' which apparently were all too real. Finally, Dumbledore's explanation cleared up the vision he'd had last night.

"You think Voldemort has done this and that's the reason he returned after my mother's sacrifice?"

"I'm sure of that, Harry. It's the only way he could do it. These cursed artefacts that carry a piece of his soul are the Horcruxes."

Hearing his suspicions confirmed Harry felt a shiver running through his spine. "So the Horcruxes really exist?"

Dumbledore fixed a stern gaze on Harry. "How did you learn about them, Harry?"

Harry didn't trust Dumbledore. This sudden change of heart seemed odd, after what the Headmaster had done. Besides Harry just couldn't tell the old man he came up with the idea on the spur of the moment.

Instead, Harry slyly said, "Trelawney once mentioned it."

Dumbledore asked eagerly, "Sybil uttered a new prophecy?"

"No, she mumbled something." Harry shrugged and pretended to study the birch in front of him. "Didn't hear very well but it wasn't a prophecy."

Dumbledore resumed walking. "Whatever the case may be, these Horcruxes do exist. Tom created several and hid them in places dear to him."

Dumbledore pointed to the south. "That cave we were going to visit is one of them."

Harry asked, "How many are there?"

"At least seven, Harry. Miss Weasley's diary was one of them" Dumbledore patted Harry's shoulder. "You destroyed that, my boy. The ring which you kept me from wearing is another one. Two of them are out of circulation."

"So Voldemort will return?"

"I'm afraid so."

Harry raised his arms, growling. "Since you are telling the truth; why haven't you trained me? How do you expect me to vanquish Voldemort?"

Dumbledore reflected on the long conversations he'd had with Moody and Severus. The Head of Slytherin was adamant that Harry should know the truth about the whole situation. Reflecting that his control of the Ministry was slipping due to Scrimgeour's reckless actions and afraid of the looming threat of Voldemort's return, Albus decided to tell the complete truth to Harry.

"Do you recall the end of the Prophecy, Harry?"

Harry replied by rote in a monotone voice. _"The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives."_

Dumbledore stopped at the gates of Hogwarts, looking kindly at his favourite pupil, trying to soften his words - knowing it was impossible to do so.

"When Voldemort killed your parents, Harry. I think he created a last Horcrux."

Harry shivered at Dumbledore's tired and defeated voice. "There's another object then."

Dumbledore shook his head; his voice old and weary when he replied, "No, Harry. The last Horcrux is you. That explains your Parseltongue ability and your connection with Tom."

Dumbledore took out his father's wand and waved it at the gates of Hogwarts, opening the wards so that he and Harry could enter.

Once they were safely inside, Albus swished his wand to recast the wards. When nothing happened, the Headmaster repeated the motions, muttering, "This wand doesn't work as well as the Elder one."

But Harry didn't hear Dumbledore; he was lost envisioning the awful truth. However much it hurt -no matter how painful - it rang true.

He was one of those bloody Horcruxes. The things he had created in his mind and spoken to his friends about, they were true.

But that wasn't the most shocking news of the day, for Dumbledore added ominously, "The way I interpret the Prophecy, and the only way I know the Horcrux inside you can be destroyed, Harry-"

Dumbledore put a hand on Harry's shoulders. The Gryffindor felt numb. As if he was outside reality, as if this wasn't really happening to him.

His time travel to the past had led him to this point in which Harry had to die in order to vanquish Voldemort. He wished he could remember the future he came from, but it was a distant blur. Harry couldn't recall how he'd vanquished Voldemort in the future, no matter how hard he tried.

After all that he had gone through - when he finally thought he was free of the bastard Voldemort - this piece of news utterly crushed Harry's hopes.

Dumbledore finished explaining. "The Horcrux in you can only be destroyed by Voldemort himself, according to the Prophecy: _And_ _either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives._ "

Albus gently squeezed Harry's shoulder. "My boy, I'm afraid you will have to allow Voldemort to kill you in order to get rid of the sliver of his evil soul that resides deep within you."

 

 


	25. The trap is sprung

 

Draco frowned, toying with his breakfast. Ever since they'd returned for their final Hogwarts year, Harry had been withdrawn and moody.

"Why are you so sad, Harry?" Draco pushed aside his goblet; he was sitting next to his boyfriend at the Gryffindor table. However much Draco tried, he couldn't get a word from him about what Dumbledore had told him.

Harry rubbed his forehead. It didn't hurt him at all, but he didn't believe for a minute that it meant Voldemort was really gone. In all the chaos that had transpired since the battle where the Dark Lord supposedly died, Harry had come to trust no one, especially not Dumbledore.

But what if the old wizard was right and the only way to finish off Voldemort for good was to let the noseless bastard kill him?

"Quidditch trainer to crazy Gryff, please answer!" With a start, Harry realized that Draco was waving treacle tart directly under his nose.

Glaring at his boyfriend, Harry picked up a fork and began to eat the treat with little enthusiasm.

"Harry, don't make me cast _Imperio_ on you." Harry's gaze slid upward from the table to the slim ivory hands he loved, up the toned chest that he liked to lick, resting finally on the stormy eyes that used to drive him angry.

Draco was frowning; Harry reached a hand to ruffle his silver hair whilst the blond drummed his fingers on the table as if yearning for the touch of his wand.

Harry sighed, following the flight of an Eagle owl that resembled Draco's. But the majestic bird continued its flight until it arrived at the Ravenclaw table where it landed next to Cho Chang.

Following Harry's gaze, Draco saw his friend and waved at his fellow Seeker. Cho was too busy fighting with her bird, which didn't want to relinquish its post, to pay much attention until Luna nudged her elbow. Then she smiled brightly at the Slytherin Seeker and waved an aged parchment on her hand.

Harry growled softly, still jealous of the closeness between his former paramour and his current one. That moment seemed to crystallize Harry's strange journey; shagging Draco and neglecting him until Draco left him, despairing in a future he barely remembered now and coming back in time to win Draco again.

Harry toyed with his fork, observing its tines, parallel yet so near. They'd never touch, they were as apart as he and Draco had been in the future. The old man gave him the opportunity to go back to the part of the fork where they were still joined and travel the path that led to Draco.

If the journey had taught him anything, it was that it didn't matter who was more demanding in bed or more powerful. The moments they spent together, the camaraderie and closeness that he'd shared with Draco - that meant it all. In the future, he'd been alone and forsaken and had tried to take his own life. Now he had Draco, and he could trust his counsel.

Harry put the fork on the table with a loud thunk and grabbed Draco's hand. "Come on, there's something I need to tell you."

The two Seekers made their way to the door, unmindful of McGonagall's and Snape's censorious gazes. Zacharias Smith grunted, "There go the two fair-"

The Hufflepuff stopped when Draco waved his hawthorn wand and cast _'Terminus sermonis.'_ Smith opened and closed his mouth as if he was a particularly obnoxious salmon, but no sounds came out.

* * *

"Let me get this right, Dumbledore told you _you_ have to let Voldemort kill you." Draco hefted a pebble and launched it towards the lake. It sank near the whitish tip of one of the Giant Squid's tentacles.

Harry touched his Gryffindor Head Boy crest, his finger caressing the embroidered lion. The breeze carried the comforting scent of Draco's cologne to him, a soothing constant in the present that he sorely lacked in _that_ future. "Yes, he quoted the Prophecy too."

Draco bent down to pick a larger pebble, frowning at the diminutive ant that carried a withered leaf. "And those Horcruxes you often mention. They're real?"

The Slytherin turned to look at Harry. A sunbeam touched Harry's tan cheek as he closed his eyes to the glare. The brunet nodded dejectedly.

"I thought you made them up just so I wouldn't fight with Granger. With your knowledge of the future and all." Draco launched the pebble which sank with a loud plopping sound.

Harry scuffed his left shoe on the grass, idly noting that it needed polishing. Ron's household spells weren't so good after all and Tonks was in hospital. "I reckon they're for real, though you're right. I came up with the idea so you and Mione wouldn't fight."

Draco turned to look at Harry and smiled. The brunet was dazzled by the rare gesture his lover offered, lifting some of his anxieties. "You don't have to worry anymore, Harry. Granger is an excellent partner doing research, but she's not as gifted as me."

"Nor as conceited," grumbled the Gryffindor.

Draco brushed his hands against his woollen trousers, frowning at Harry. "Don't tell me you're going to follow Dumbles."

"I may have to! What if Voldemort returns and is unstoppable?"

Draco growled, kicking several small rocks that traced a graceful arc under the midday sun. "How can you forget how he immobilized you in front of the Death Eaters?"

"I don't trust him, but the Prophecy says-"

"Fuck the Prophecy! I think Trelawney's batty anyway!"

"Draco, the good of the many-"

The blond lifted his arms to the sky, rolling his eyes as he shouted, "Merlin, you're beginning to sound like the crazy old man!" He turned to look at Harry. "Do tell, you've been drinking tea in the old man's office? I think he laces the tea with a dumbing down pot-"

Harry grabbed Draco by the shoulders, interrupting his tirade. His green eyes pierced Draco as he said, "I have to do it, Draco. Can't let any more people die because of me!"

The blond shook off his lover's arms, taking two steps backwards. He nearly stumbled on a big rock that was near the oak they were sitting under. "You've forgotten he left you with the bloody Dursleys unattended for so many years? With only the cat lady to look out for you?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "How do you know about Mrs. Figg? I don't remember telling you."

Draco put his hand on the bark of the tall oak, reclining unselfconsciously in a very sensual arc that would've made Harry's mouth water if circumstances were less stressful.

"Moody told me. He kept grumbling about his friend Dumbledore." Draco smirked, eyeing Harry craftily. "He praised me a lot, you know."

Harry ruffled his hair as he paced back and forth in front of Draco, kicking small pebbles randomly. "Moody's in danger! Your crazy aunt has him! I had a vision…"

The brunet trailed off, unsure if Draco would believe him. The Slytherin had a sceptical side to him that sometimes drove Harry barmy.

"The other night? When you were thrashing in bed?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. I think they got hold of a Horcrux. I felt odd, as if I was on Bellatrix' head." He waved a finger at Draco. "Don't laugh!"

Draco lifted his arm pleadingly. "I believe you, Harry. I've learned that with you everything's possible."

He took out his wand and waved it around. "If they come, I'll stand by you just like in the battle."

Looking at Draco's thick, smooth wand, Harry remembered another part of the vision. "Bellatrix said something about the most powerful one of all, the Elder wand."

"Granger has mentioned an ancient Greek wand." Draco pursed his lips as he tried to recall the brunette's words. "The Golden Bough? It can resurrect people according to the legends."

"Do you think it might be-"

"The same? Could be. I wish Dumbledore confided in you, Harry. He just lets you grope around blindly for clues." Before Harry could interrupt him and defend the Headmaster, Draco added hurriedly, "I've seen you enough to know it's the truth. Don't deny it!"

Harry noticed a glow approaching them from the castle and took out his wand, mindful of Moody's teachings. However it turned out to be a _Patronus_.

It stopped in front of the Gryffindor, its amorphous shape almost erased by the bright sun.

"Harry, I'm afraid I have bad news." Remus voice lacked its usual smooth baritone, coming out ragged and heavy. "Tonks is in labour. The mediwizards tell me there's 50 percent chance she'll lose the baby."

Draco took a step towards Harry and hugged him from behind, his hands rubbing the woollen cloak. His cousin might pull through, after all she was the daughter of a Black and Merlin knew they were made of stern stuff. Draco knew how much Harry cared about his Marauder teacher and his family.

Remus' voice continued, "But there is more dire news. Someone entered the Department of Mysteries and stole the memory vials that held the recollections of a Death Eater captured after the battle. The magical signatures were that of Bellatrix and an unknown wizard."

Draco felt the brunet shiver around his arms and he wasn't the only one, for the blond shuddered too, realizing his aunt wanted to study the battle. And Bellatrix had it in for Draco, due to his perceived betrayal.

Harry touched his lover's hands and tried to shrug off his embrace. He was desperate for action, feeling trapped in the castle when so many things were going on.

First Voldemort's possible return and Moody a prisoner, and now Tonks in danger. Worse, the thing with the memory vials smacked of one of the noseless bastard's evil plans.

"I'm informing you because I don't think Albus will do it. Don't be mad, Harry. He's only trying to protect you though many members of the Order disagree with his methods. Miner-"

"Right to disagree! Crazy old barmy-" Draco shut up when Harry elbowed him sharply.

"- at the Ministry right now. Kingsley suspects someone transfigured a piece of furniture to break into the Department; Minerva will know for sure."

The _Patronus_ paused as if it was out of breath, becoming even more translucent as its magic weakened. "Harry, Kingsley and the Aurors are working to find Moody. Stay put at the castle! You're protected by its wards, remember. I just want you to know the situation."

The ball of light finally disappeared, creating the illusion that it was receding in the distance.

* * *

Harry yawned; it had been a tiring day dealing with the chores of being Head Boy besides the troubling news. The stress was killing him.

Harry fingered the badge on his robe, wondering if Draco was jealous of the privilege Dumbledore had given him. His Slytherin boyfriend didn't appear to resent him for the honour, though rumour had it he had been the other top contender and Snape had been furious when the other heads voted for Harry.

At least that was what the Fat Friar reported. Nearly Headless Nick opined that Dumbledore didn't want to give the post to Harry, having been told so by the portraits of former headmasters.

Harry smiled innocently at the Head Girl. Hermione was sitting at her desk, scribbling furiously the names of the prefects and Seventh Years available for tutoring. "Mione, did you get the roll call for Gryffindor?"

She waved absently at the parchment atop the history books that formed a leaning tower of knowledge. "It's there." The brunette turned to look suspiciously at Harry. "By the way, why didn't you go to the Tower?"

"Errr… I was busy tutoring."

Hermione huffed. "You call it that, I call it groping Draco. It's most _unseemly_ in a Head Boy."

Ron laid down his Quidditch magazine, strategically placed inside _'Ruing your way to greatness: Runes for beginners'_ by Thuri Sazgebo.

"Mione, quit it! Next thing you'll tie your pretty hair in a bun and become a tabby Animagus."

Hermione glared at the redhead, "At least it would be useful. I would prowl around and I wouldn't pretend to study when I'm reading about Quidditch!"

Ron bit his lip, squirming in the seat. "Blimey, how did you know?"

"Ron, you're talking with someone who knows books inside out. Need I say more?"

Harry walked to his bedroom, waving to his quarrelling friends. "See you tomorrow! I'll meet with the prefects first thing in the morning."

"You'd better. I'm tired of doing your part." Hermione finished writing and put the parchment on the edge of her desk, tidying it up.

"See you, mate!" Ron opened the magazine to read about the intriguing team from Liechtenstein which appeared poised to become the next champions.

Harry opened the door and entered his room, waving his wand to light the sconce.

He took off his robe and put it on the bed. It was made of mahogany, big enough to hold him and Draco. The brunet sighed, disappointed that his boyfriend was preparing a special potion with Snape.

Harry took off his Gryffindor tie, looking appreciatively at the golden red colours he would not wear again after the year was over - if he made it alive that far.

He sat on the bed, yawning. Harry leant forward, putting his right hand on his forehead. It was something he started to do after his vision, as if he wanted to make sure that it didn't hurt - that Voldemort was truly gone. The Gryffindor knew that life hardly ever played fair with him.

In his peripheral vision, Harry noted a slender oak chair, incongruously simple among the richly furnished room. He sighed, recalling the gleam on Draco's eyes when he first saw the Head Boy's room. Apparently it was elegant enough to impress even a Malfoy.

After he washed his face and cleaned his glasses with a soft cloth, eschewing the use of magic, Harry returned to the room, feeling completely exhausted.

He sat down on the chair, noting that it was quite uncomfortable.

Harry felt a strange sensation on his navel, as if magic was pulling him through it. It varied, becoming intense one second and weak the next, as if the magic was struggling against something. Before he could reach his wand though, the magic overwhelmed the wards of Hogwarts and he was whisked away, together with the American Colonial chair.

* * *

Ron and Hermione rushed to the door a second after the alarm blared but it was too late, Harry had disappeared from Hogwarts. The two Gryffindors searched vainly around the room, Hermione waving her wand as she cast detecting spells of her own devising while Weasley trashed the room, moaning as he imagined his best friend in danger - peril that Ron felt he should have prevented.

After a minute, the door swung open once more. The Potions Master strode imperiously into the room, his robes swishing majestically, a worried frown on his aquiline face.

"Where's Potter? The wards disappeared for a second. The alarm detected a Portkey."

"Can't find him, professor!" wailed Hermione as she tucked her wand on her jeans. "The spells I used tell me he's somewhere Unplottable."

Snape took out his wand and cast the Patronus spell. Instantly a silvery doe appeared next to the place where the chair used to be. The Potions Master sent a message to the troublesome mutt, the DADA professor.

"Where's professor McGonagall? She could try to pinpoint Harry's location better than I." Hermione tugged nervously her badge.

"I'm afraid Minerva can not help us this time." The tired voice of Dumbledore came from beyond the door. The Headmaster approached the students, walking as tiredly as they'd ever seen him. His eyes were bereft of any joy as he took off his glasses and pocketed them.

"I've received news from Kingsley." Dumbledore lowered his voice and bent down to pick Harry's tie. "She was taken from the Ministry by unknown wizards."

* * *

Harry fell down to the cold, wet stone floor. He gazed intently at the rough-hewn stone walls of what seemed to be a dungeon. Frantically searching his pockets for his wand, Harry took it out and launched a spell to destroy the walls and break free, " _Delenda sil.._."

Before he could finish, his wand was grabbed from behind. Harry swore because Moody had trained him to feel persons around with his senses and magic, and he hadn't felt anyone with him in the scant seconds since he'd been trapped here.

He twisted his body, his knees hurting against the stone as a voice he'd never heard before addressed him. "My boy, you won't need this when you meet dear Tom."

Harry glared at the portly man, neatly dressed in a tweed coat with leather elbow patches. The man's shining pate glistened with sweat by the light of the sconces. He launched himself at the man but before he could reach him, he was hit by an immobilizing spell.

"Ickle Harry Potter. You're here at last!" Bellatrix Lestrange smiled crazily, her hair piled atop her slim head, resembling nothing more than a serpent's writhing progeny.

She sashayed closer to Harry, smirking cruelly. Her singsong voice, sounding eerily like a lost child, continued taunting Harry. "You've been a naughty boy, ickle Harry. You and that bloody traitor, Draco."

The witch lifted her strangely curved wand, ready to torture Harry with _Crucio._ But a slim, pale hand stopped her. A boyish voice, smooth and seductive as the finest elf wine, drifted up to Harry, sinking him farther in despair in the nightmarish situation. "Bella, you must not hurt Harry Potter."

A lean, handsome boy walked into the dungeon. He was dressed in a green silk tie and white shirt which appeared incongruous beneath his cloak. He had raven, tousled-hair adorning finely chiselled features.

Harry gaped and shivered for he knew well the handsome boy. He'd met him before in visions and real life by the cold pond beneath Hogwarts, in the Chamber of Secrets.

The youthful Tom Riddle smirked cruelly. With an elegant motion of his knobby wand, which looked similar to Dumbledore's, Tom released Harry from the spell.

Riddle conjured a plush leather chair and motioned for Harry to sit down. Turning to Slughorn, Tom said, "Though your transfiguring yourself as a chair has served me quite well, Horace, I find the particular form you choose distasteful."

Tom cast another spell, binding Harry to the chair with writhing, thin stalks of a magical plant. "I can't complain though, for you have brought me Harry, defenceless at last."

"What do you want, Tom? How did you return from the dead?"

Tom smiled cruelly, belying the youthfulness of his appearance. "I want you dead, Harry Potter. First though, I want you to suffer."

Riddle conjured a chair for himself and bade Bellatrix and Slughorn to leave them.

He sat primly on his chair, leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees, giving the perfect appearance of an eager Hogwarts student on his Seventh Year. It was as if all the years of mayhem, killing innocent people and breaking up his soul in pieces - dying and being reborn again and again - hadn't happened at all.

"You see, Harry, Dumbledore is quite dumb, really. It's in his name!" Tom laughed richly, and in all his despair Harry couldn't help but agree with the Dark Lord on this - for it seemed as if the Headmaster was too wrapped in his convoluted plots to really care for the well-being of the school or Harry.

Tom lowered his voice, whispering conspiratorially, "Horace has been quite good, the perfect spy. Disguised as a chair, he can enter and leave Hogwarts grounds as if Dumbledore's silly wards didn't exist!"

Riddle chortled with mirth whilst Harry shivered in disgust. Tom pointed to his handsome face with an elegant movement of his manicured hand. "I came back thanks to dear Rowena's diadem. 'Tis a pity that the thing is rubble now. No more wisdom to be gained, I'm afraid."

Tom snorted. "Not that I need any." He waved around the dungeon. "I'm doing quite well as you can see. Albus is powerless; I'm always a step ahead of the crazy old fool."

Tom lifted his wand, caressing the knobs with his fingers as if he intended to make love to it. "I'm the master of the Elder wand. I've fought and won against Moody, McGonagall and the Weasley twins."

"Let them go! Or I'll-"

"You can don nothing, Potter! Do not worry for your Weasley pets; they're quite comfortable visiting another dungeon. Though soon they'll die. All your friends will." Tom leaned further towards Harry who was twisting desperately on the chair. "Including the traitor Malfoy and his mother, the bitch!"

Tom reclined on the chair, sitting as if he was an ancient king on his throne ready to deliver judgment on unruly peasants. "And you, Harry..."

Tom pointed at Harry who was vainly struggling to get rid of the vines pinning him to the chair whilst he desperately tried to cast wandless magic to escape. "You're pitiful, boy, my prisoner here."

Riddle leaned his pretty face until it was three feet from Harry's. "You won't escape, for I've cast the strongest wards I know. They're keyed to my blood; the supreme Slytherin essence that informs my magic. But since I took your blood, you too could enter anytime."

The Dark Lord laughed crazily. "´Tis a pity you're already trapped inside the wards, isn't it?"

Harry shouted, "YOU WON'T WIN, TOM. I'LL VANQUISH YOU AGAIN!"

* * *

Narcissa was rubbing a cold cloth on her niece's sweat-covered brow as her sister Andromeda questioned the mediwizard. "Isn't there something you can do? Nymphadora is hurting!"

Tonks said weakly. "Don't call me…"

Mediwizard Williams shook her head. "There's always a big risk when a Metamorphmagus gives birth. Due to the stress of the situation, her body involuntarily changes shape, seeking release and interfering with a normal delivery."

Remus called from the corner of the room as he paced back and forth. "Can't you do anything? I refuse to lose my wife and child!"

Williams fingered the lapels of her robes. "We've stabilized Tonks for the moment, but it's a breech birth. Besides Tonks has lost a lot of blood I'm afraid-"

"Give her my blood, for Merlin's sake!" Remus said desperately. "I'd do anything for them!"

"You have the lycanthrope problem, Mr. Lupin. Furthermore your blood type is incompatible."

Andromeda stepped forward. "Then take mine. I won't lose Nymphadora. I refuse to!"

Williams took out her birch wand and cast a spell to ensure Andromeda's blood type was the same as her daughter's. She put the wand back on the pocket of her robes, shaking her head. "You're not the same blood type as Tonks, I'm afraid."

Narcissa left her vigil by her niece's bed and approached resolutely the mediwizard. "Check my blood! If there's anything I can do for the niece I've recently found again, I'll do it."

After the spell confirmed that Narcissa's blood type was compatible, the mediwizard directed Draco's mother to a chair as she prepared the transfusion. Waving her wand in the direction of Narcissa's bare arm, Williams cast a spell.

A bright ball of pure magic appeared between Narcissa and Tonks; globular light beams elongated from the ball towards both of them until they were joined by bright tendrils which immediately became opaque as they filled with the blood.

Narcissa's alabaster skin paled considerably after the blood transfusion. Overwhelmed by the worry she'd felt for her niece and the loss of blood, she dozed off for a while.

* * *

When she came to, Narcissa saw that Remus was holding tenderly a small baby wrapped in a pale blue blanket. The tiny baby had wisps of multicoloured hair.

Andromeda smiled warmly at her sister from the other side of Tonks' bed. "Cissa, you're the proud aunt of a beautiful baby boy."

Remus approached the tired Mrs. Malfoy and leaned forwards. Narcissa cooed at the small baby, whose eyes were as blue as the midday sky over the Manor. "Narcissa, meet my son, Teddy Narcissus Lupin."

Her heart lightened by the thought of the baby carrying a form of her name, Narcissa touched gently Teddy's forehead whilst she murmured softly, "You're a beautiful boy, Teddy. Just like my Draco was."

She lifted her gaze to Remus. "How is Tonks doing?"

"She's sleeping. The mediwizard gave her a potion."

Narcissa opened her arms. "Give him to me, Remus."

Before the Marauder could comply, a silvery shape burst through the walls of St. Mungo's. Narcissa recognized the doe that was Severus' _Patronus_ and her heart skipped a beat, imagining that Draco was in trouble again.

The Patronus approached Remus, and Snape's voice came out, bereft of his usual sarcastic bite. "Lupin, we're in trouble at Hogwarts. It would seem that Potter has disappeared."

Hearing that, Andromeda walked up to Remus and took the baby, who started bawling as if sensing that his father would soon leave him. "Go on, Remus. I know you'll want to go there. Just take care, Tonks and Teddy need you!"

Remus took out the quill Albus had given him if he needed a Portkey to Hogwarts, he was about to leave when Narcissa wrapped her arm around his, muttering, "If the boys are in trouble, I'm coming too!"

* * *

A confusing scene greeted Narcissa and Remus when they appeared in the Headmaster's office. Draco was shouting, arguing with Dumbledore whilst Ron and Hermione huddled together. The redhead left a few moments after the brunette girl ordered him to gather some friends of the Seekers.

"Can't you do, something, Dumbledore?" growled the Slytherin boy whilst Snape shook his head and tried to calm his irate student.

"I'm afraid not, my boy. Harry's location is unplottable."

Narcissa walked to her son whilst Remus approached Severus and talked with him. She petted Draco's head, who looked at his mother with an anguished face. "Tell me what happened, my Dragon. Perhaps I can think of something."

Draco shed a lonely tear that was rolling down his cheek. "Harry was in the bloody Head room when he disappeared. Then Weasley received a message from his mother that his brothers had gone missing and-"

The door to Dumbledore's office opened suddenly, surprising the Headmaster who'd been caught unaware. The spell that informed him of his visitors apparently couldn't grasp the information it received.

The old man with white hair entered the room, surveying the occupants critically. With an elegant movement of his hand whose index finger wore the silver ring of a serpent eating its tail, the man took off his dark glasses, revealing striking grey eyes.

"Once more unto the breach, dear friends," said the man whilst he took out his wand and dispelled the glamour hiding his identity.

Narcissa pointed a shaky hand at the man. "You! It can't be!"

Overwhelmed by the recent loss of blood and the man's identity, Narcissa fainted as twin gasps came from Severus and Remus.

It was only Draco's arms that held tenderly his mother's body and kept Narcissa from falling to the floor.

When a second person entered the room, right behind the old man, Draco was so utterly surprised that his mother's body almost slipped his grasp.

 


	26. Harry finds himself

 

Harry squirmed on the chair, trying to get rid of the vines that were slowly cutting the circulation to his wrists. He felt sweat pooling below the elastic band of his pants as a drop of water fell on his forehead from the dripping roof of the dungeon.

"It's pointless to resist, Potter!" The smooth voice of Tom Riddle continued taunting Harry with the reminder of the futility of all he'd done. The Light Side appeared to be a step behind the bloody Heir of Slytherin.

"The wards I've drawn are invincible." Riddle stood up and with a graceful motion of his slim arm he wielded the Elder wand, casting a spell that created a window outside whatever hellish place Harry was trapped in.

The brunet squinted, his vision obstructed by the sweat falling on his eyelids and the dripping water from above. The window showed a deserted stretch of cliff obscured by green, writhing drapes that moved obeying Riddle's will.

Harry looked up at his adversary, growling, "What in the bloody hell did you do to look so young?"

Tom smirked, lifting his hand and ruffling his tousled hair. "This is the question you ask, Harry? I must say I'm a bit disappointed."

Tom twirled the wand, holding it between his middle finger and his thumb, the motion eerily reminding Harry of writhing Nagini, the snake that had been killed by the twins and Draco. The window disappeared whilst the Dark Lord answered Harry, "Dark Magic, Harry. It has sustained me so far."

Tom leaned forward until his forehead almost touched Harry's. "I was helped by something else though, a new discovery that has… widened my scope if you will."

Riddle lifted his hand and delicately pushed aside Harry's fringe, studying his scar with utmost interest. "My nearness. It doesn't hurt you."

It was true. In the past, whenever the Dark Lord was near or Harry received a vision from Voldemort, his scar hurt him terribly. But now he felt nothing at all, not even an itch. The Gryffindor was tempted to deny it, to say that it hurt him but he felt it was futile. Voldemort would fish in his mind for the information and Harry wanted to conserve his strength to try to escape. So he nodded.

"How puzzling!" Tom stood straight. "It is an interesting phenomenon I'd like to study, but I'm afraid I won't have time. You see-"

Tom smiled cruelly whilst he twirled the Elder wand between his fingers.

"-I'll kill you soon. But be assured you'll die after your friends."

"LET THEM GO!" shouted Harry, struggling with the bonds. "You've got me. They are useless to you!"

"Bellatrix tells me they killed Nagini!" snarled Tom, taking a step towards the door. "They will die but not before I let sweet Bella play with them. And then my other Death Eaters will have their sport. ´Tis a pity that-"

Voldemort was interrupted by Bellatrix throwing open the door. The witch bowed as she said in a reedy tone, "My Lord, the wards have been breached! Intruders are fighting against our guards!"

"They passed the wards? How?" Tom frowned fiercely and with a casual sweep of his wand he cast a spell that blasted a part of the stone wall. Shards hit Harry's robes, cutting his shoulder and his cheek.

"Don't know, my Lord. The Dementors were chased by several Patronuses, Slughorn says amongst them was ickle Severus' doe!"

"The traitor!" Tom walked to the door. At the threshold, he paused and turned to Harry. "I'm afraid I won't have the pleasure to kill you personally, Harry. However…"

Tom swished his wand and conjured a metal pendulum tipped with a bladed edge above Harry. "That," said Tom pointing to the device. "Will drop in half a minute."

Fearful cries drifted through the door along with the acrid stench of burning flesh. Tom waved mockingly towards Harry as he pushed Bellatrix' back. "It wasn't a pleasure knowing you, Harry."

Without saying more, Riddle went out the door and closed it firmly behind him.

Harry stared at the shiny surface of the pendulum, seemingly mesmerized. Dumbledore's words came back to haunt his thoughts. _Maybe I should let the thing fall and kill me. The Prophecy would be fulfilled; the Horcrux in me would die. Someone else like Neville can kill the Dark Lord._

As the seconds trickled by relentlessly so did Harry's recollections. He remembered the sun shining upon Draco's hair as he sauntered in the Manor garden, his stormy eyes fixing on Harry as he painfully bared his secrets. His arms holding Harry. His lips kissing him as they entwined their bodies. Loving him. Being loved by Draco.

Ron's face came unbidden to Harry's mind, shining in the _Lumos_ light as he grudgingly supported Harry's relationship with Draco. Ron who turned out to have strong, if wrong reasons, to have seemingly turned against Harry.

The Gryffindor visualized Hermione's face when she chastised him a while ago, a time that seemed like months past. Back when he thought he had his life before him. Hermione, his other best friend who had mysteriously changed her mind regarding him and now supported him as unconditionally as she used to do, before the whole nightmare began.

Struggling mightily against the magical vine, Harry knew viscerally that he couldn't leave them behind - Draco and his best friends - to fight alone against Voldemort. _Bloody Prophecy be damned! Dumbledore hasn't proved to be very wise. I'll fight my own fight whenever I bloody wish!_

In the last seconds before the sharp edge of the heavy pendulum would fall against his chest, Harry recalled Remus teaching in the DADA classroom. He tried to visualize in his mind the beginning of that Weird Sisters song but it eluded him like the fluttering Snitch. Instead, out of the depths of his memory came the faint melody of a lullaby sang by a woman's sweet contralto.

' _Sleep well tonight, my prince / Your dreams shall come true one day…"_

Harry directed his gaze upward, and just as the pendulum began to fall, he used the soothing, slow melody to power the spell Remus taught him. He wandlessly cast _'Adagissimo.'_

The device fell as slowly as if it was a feather adrift in the breeze, together with several drops of water. Harry had time enough to twist his body sideways and cast a spell Moody drilled into their minds during the gruelling training sessions Draco had come to adore. _'Subseco totalis.'_

The vines parted like the waters of the Black Lake disturbed by the Giant Squid. Harry lurched sideways and fell to the floor with a loud thump, just before the pendulum cut cleanly through the chair where he'd been.

* * *

Harry ran through the corridors, clutching his wand. The portly man who had transported him to Voldemort's lair, wherever it was, had been killed by a stray _Avada Kedavra._

In the rush to find a weapon and join the battle, Harry had searched through the man's coat until he found the wand.

Harry ducked to avoid a red beam whilst he cast a _Protego_ shield. He came to a small hall and stood open mouthed when he saw the figure in front of him, for it was himself!

The Gryffindor directed his wand at the impostor. "Bloody Death Eater, where did you get the hair for the Polyjuice?"

Before he could do anything, the other boy approached him and swung his fist towards Harry's face, hitting him with a sickening sound which meant he'd broken Harry's nose.

"That's for sending me to King's Cross! I HAD TO WAIT A WHOLE HOUR TILL MOM SHOWED UP!"

Harry knelt on the floor as the other boy continued shouting, "And there was this bloody thing under the seat, like a dead seal!"

The Gryffindor shook his head, warily pointing his wand towards the seemingly hysterical impostor. "What in the bloody hell d'you mean? Are you barmy?"

The other Potter brandished his wand towards Harry. "It's you who ki-"

"Enough, Potter! Leave Harry alone!" yelled Draco as he approached the two bickering Potters, with the Weasley twins in tow. Fred and George were bleeding from cuts in their necks and hands but otherwise they were healthy, which made Harry sigh in relief.

Draco knelt down in front of Harry and waved his hawthorn wand in elliptical fashion over Harry's face as he said, _'Episkey.'_

Draco touched Harry's cheek lingeringly, savouring the moment as he whispered huskily, "Thank Merlin you're safe, Harry! Would've come sooner but something compelled me to go to the dungeon were these two were held." The blond pointed his wand towards the smirking twins.

Fred winked at Harry. "It was the Life Debt…"

"… you owe us, Draco. 'Cause we…"

"…. saved your life when we made Harry…"

"… give you a BJ," finished George, leering at Draco.

"What is a BJ?" asked Harry as he stood up, looking towards the heavy wooden door at the end of the room.

The other Potter lifted his arms to the ceiling, growling, "It's a blow job, you git! Can't believe you're a year older than me!"

"A blow job?" Harry looked sharply at Draco, who was blushing.

"I'll tell you later." The blond pointed a shaky arm to the door. "We have to save our friends."

George nudged Fred's elbow. "Our friend doesn't want Harry angry. Wait till he finds out 'bout-"

"Enough of your bickering, you fools!" yelled angrily the Potions Master from the door. He'd opened it a moment before, looking for Harry and Draco.

"Your mother needs you, Draco. There are more Death Eaters than we thought. The mutt sent me to get you!" Snape motioned with his arm to the room behind him.

Hearing that, Draco rushed towards the door followed closely by the group comprised of two Weasleys and two Potters whilst Harry shook his head, deciding to ask questions after the battle was over.

The scene that greeted them on the huge hall was pandemonium. Harry saw Ron and Hermione back to back, firing spells at several Death Eaters, barely holding their own.

When Draco espied several hulking dark wizards holding Pansy and Blaise at bay he ran to them, taking out his wand and firing spells in rapid succession that knocked out two of the assailants.

Blaise growled, "I could've taken them myself, Draco. I can defend my girlfriend!"

"Like hell you can, Blaise! Had to rescue you, if you remember!" huffed Pansy.

Draco stood beside his friends, ducking to avoid a curse sent by his aunt. "Finally you two got together! Thought I'd had to interfere."

Meanwhile, the other Potter had gone to join Cho and Padma, who were fighting off two werewolves.

On the corner, Harry saw the trunk where Mad Moody had been imprisoned in the vision. A violet beam fell next to it, gouging out a piece of the ground. Harry cast a shield over the trunk and ran to it, intent on saving Moody.

Narcissa was fighting her mad sister. She was weakened by the loss of blood after the transfusion and her spells lacked her usual strength. Bellatrix smiled viciously as she deftly disarmed her with a lateral motion of her wand.

"Poor Cissy. You're not fighting like a pureblood should, like a Black! Ickle Draco giving you trouble?" Bellatrix approached the prostrate Narcissa, smirking cruelly. "Don't worry, I'll kill him soon, but I'll be merciful for I'll finish you first!"

Narcissa glared at her sister. "You bitch! If you kill me, I'll die happy having held my newborn nephew today! You'll always be alone!"

"How dare you!" shrieked Bellatrix, waving her wand and shouting _'Crucio'_ at Narcissa.

Having freed Moody, Harry turned and saw Draco's mother writhing on the floor. He started to make his way towards them but a dark wizard tried to kill him. The man couldn't finish the curse, falling when someone threw a spell at him.

Draco ran towards his aunt, casting a shield around his mother. "Leave her alone, bitch!"

Bellatrix turned towards Draco, her wild curls falling loosely around her demented face. The perfect picture of Medusa intent on turning her victim into stone.

"Ickle Draco wants to fight?" She fired a curse at Draco who threw himself to the floor to avoid it, rolling on the dirty surface.

Bellatrix prepared to throw the Killing Curse at her nephew but she was hit by a red beam as a voice drawled coolly. "Leave him alone, Bella! You and I have to finish our fight."

Seeing her adversary, Lestrange's face paled. "It can't be you! You're dead, I saw you fall!"

Harry followed Bellatrix' gaze and blanched. Coming out from behind the dark smoke of the battle, a face he knew well grimaced in distaste at Lestrange.

"Things are not always as they seem, Bella," said the man who had long black hair that fell to his shoulders and a goatee that was perfectly cared for. The man shrugged, his black cloak draping around his broad shoulders, his rugged face breaking into a smile when he saw Harry. His striking grey eyes shined with mirth and passion.

An irrepressible grin tugging his lips upwards, Sirius Black shot a spell at Bellatrix. She was too stunned to react and the curse hit her, making her bloat. She grew in size as she vainly tried to speak. No words came out of her mouth due to her huge tongue. She ballooned until she exploded, the pieces flying outward as they became translucent and disappeared.

Bellatrix Lestrange was no more.

* * *

Sirius winked at Harry, waving his wand towards him. "I shut her up for good. Didn't want to repeat the mistake I made last time." Then he lurched sideways, avoiding a cutting curse cast by a female Death Eater.

In the shock of finding his godfather alive, not to mention the other version of himself, for Harry the battle passed in a blur. There was only the need to defend himself and his friends. Draco by his side, the two Seekers fought ferociously as the Death Eaters were slowly decimated.

Harry didn't even wonder where Tom Riddle was until a good portion of the wall facing them imploded, the stones being suckered into a tiny black hole that soon disappeared.

Dumbledore stepped backwards into the hall, his arm pointing towards the room beyond as he was slowly enveloped by a deathly green glow.

Harry heard McGonagall shrieking, "No, Albus!"

The other Potter rushed to the Headmaster's aid but it was too late. Dumbledore's body hit the ground as the victorious Dark Lord strode into the hall.

But the evil grin gracing the handsome face of Tom Riddle didn't last long, for his would-be Death Eater army had been defeated. His few remaining followers had disappeared just before Dumbledore died.

Seeing several wands pointed his way, Tom cast a shield around himself as he whirled his upper body, his legs and torso transforming into a shroud of black smoke that lifted him towards the ceiling.

As he disappeared, Tom Riddle's shrill mental voice entered their minds. "Potter, you'll never vanquish me for I am the master of the Elder wand! Your puny Dumbledore is dead at my hands, you'll be next!"

* * *

Remus opened the door to the Room of Requirement, biding Snape to enter before him.

Snorting, the Potions Master sauntered into the room, noting that it was decorated in those garish Gryffindor colours. Obviously a Potter or one of his friends had chosen the decor. He nodded curtly at Narcissa, who'd refused to go to the infirmary. She was seated regally in a leather chair, Draco standing beside her, touching her shoulder.

"What's happened, Severus?" asked his former companion in the spying business.

Snape sneered as he replied to Draco, "Zabini and Chang are in the infirmary, Parkinson and Patil are with them. The Weasley twins are suffering their mother's displeasure. Molly shrieks as loud as her Howlers."

"I must say Poppy is not pleased with us. Says we should take more care," said Remus softly, fingering his moustache. Then he snickered. "As if battling Death Eaters was like attending Hogwarts!"

"Indeed, mutt," continued the Potions Master. "Minerva has scheduled Albus' funeral for tomorrow. She appears to be in shock."

Narcissa smiled at her friend. "I think you'll be the next Headmaster, Severus."

"I doubt it, Narcissa. Minerva is, after all, the Deputy Headmistress."

Remus smiled at the dour Potions professor. "Severus, you have a certain clout as the man who killed Voldemort. I think the Hogwarts trustees will choose you."

"You might be right, Lupin." Severus frowned at the two Potters. One was at Draco's right, his arm intertwined with the Slytherin's. The other was at Narcissa's right, eyeing hungrily the blond.

Severus gazed around the room. "Where's the other mutt?"

Younger Harry muttered sullenly, "He'll come in a minute. Sirius said he didn't want to repeat his explanations."

Hermione, who was seated in front of a fire holding tightly Ron's arm, said excitedly, "I think I know what the incident with the cat meant!"

"Who cares?" said Ron, glaring at his girlfriend after she thwacked him on the head.

"Who would've thought that Dumbledore would ever die? He seemed indestructible." Narcissa shook her head whilst Draco leaned towards Harry, whispering, "I'm glad you didn't die, Harry. I would not have been pleased."

Harry smiled, holding tightly Draco's hand, caressing the palm with his thumb.

Narcissa looked at Severus, lifting a sculpted eyebrow. "Any news from Scrimgeour?"

Snape shook his head. "None. I gather he's busy fighting for his political survival. With Dumbledore gone, it is quite possible that a vote of no-confidence will take place on the Wizengamot. I don't think he'll win this time without Albus' support."

"Who will be the next Minister then, Shacklebolt?" asked Draco.

Remus fingered his worn lapels as he replied, "No, he's a political novice. Too inexperienced." His gaze drifted to the corner where Ron was standing next to Hermione's chair. "They will be searching for an experienced hand, someone who has worked in the Ministry. A man like Arthur Weasley."

Ron sighed, caressing Hermione's hair. "Dad will be sad. He won't have time for his hobby."

"Well, I hope he doesn't bring electronic devices to the Ministry. I shudder to think about the chaos that would ensue." Hermione smiled at Ron to take the sting out of her words.

"Granger, you'll have to show me-" Draco didn't finish because at that moment the door opened and Sirius strode confidently into the room, rubbing the silver ring on his finger.

People started firing questions at the Marauder.

"Did the cat mean…?"

"How come you're alive?"

"Sirius, you promised me…"

Sirius held up his hand, smiling at Remus. "Hold your horses! I'll explain things presently."

"You'd better, mutt. I can't stand your presence," growled Severus.

Sirius smiled craftily. "I know what you drew in your Potions book, Sev. Don't make me tell!"

Harry's ears pricked up. _Did Snape draw erotic doodles too? By Merlin, I've got to get the book back!_

Hermione squirmed in her chair; thinking about the censorious gazes McGonagall still shot at her because of the dratted book she wanted nothing more to do with it.

Remus smiled at his fellow Marauder. "Sirius, quit teasing Severus and tell us!"

Harry glared at his godfather. "By all means, tell me why you insisted I had to kill him!" He pointed at the younger Harry, who frowned angrily at his older version, rubbing his knuckles.

The two Harrys advanced menacingly on Sirius, who looked at Remus for help. However the DADA professor just crossed his arms, smiling at the tableau. "You'll have to settle with them yourself, Sirius. It would seem that whenever we meet, Harry is mad at you."

Sirius' gaze slid to the Potions Master, who was smirking at him with his arms crossed, enjoying the scene.

The Marauder lifted his arms pleadingly. "I did it to save your life, Harry!"

"I don't believe you!" said one Harry.

"Neither do I!" added the other.

"It was the only way to fulfil the Prophecy!" shouted Sirius.

Severus took out his wand at last and cast an invisible shield around Sirius, just in case one of his angry godsons attacked him. He didn't want to miss Sirius' explanations.

"What do you mean, mutt?"

Sirius frowned at Snape. "You know the Prophecy, Severus. Tell us the part that convinced Dumbledore that Harry had to die. I know you strongly opposed the Headmaster on this!"

Severus said the bitter words he'd memorized by rote:

" _And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives."_

The Potions Master started pacing around the fire, his robes billowing. "Albus was sure it meant that Voldemort's Horcrux that was in Potter… had to be destroyed for the Dark Lord to finally die. His careful plans had the goal to ensure that Potter destroyed all the Horcruxes before Potter, himself, allowed Voldemort to kill him."

Narcissa gasped and stood up, going to the Potters that stood just outside the shield cast by Severus. She wrapped her arms around their shoulders. "That man! And Draco was always writing to me, complaining that Harry was his favourite!"

The older Harry said tentatively, "But wasn't he right? If I truly have a piece of Voldemort's soul, then I have to let him kill me!"

Sirius smirked. "The cursed Prophecy says that _either must die at the hand of the other_. It doesn't mention precisely who."

He pointed at the older Potter and then at the younger one. "The line can be interpreted separately. It mentions two people who are equal in power, and one dies at the hand of the other."

Sirius stepped towards his godsons and put his arms around them. "You see, you two fulfil the conditions. When you killed your younger version, Harry, you destroyed the Horcrux. Your _Avada_ didn't have enough hate to really kill him, only the evil part, Voldemort's sliver of soul. That's why I sent Ron to get the younger Harry to the future."

Sirius grinned boyishly, adding, "I wouldn't advise my godson to kill my godson unless it was necessary to save him."

"Great, I saved Harry!" Ron pumped his fist in the air whilst Hermione yanked his sweater.

"That's… intriguing, mutt. You mean to say that Potter no longer has a Horcrux?" Severus sighed in relief. It meant that Lily's son need not die, that he would get to see him grow older. That he would still see Lily's eyes.

Though it could mean that he would have to teach Potions to two Potters and a Longbottom. Severus shivered.

"When Harry killed his younger version, the Horcrux died." Sirius looked sharply at Harry. "Did your scar hurt when Voldemort was near?"

Harry shook his head. "No."

Sirius turned to Draco. "The Horcrux can twist a person's perspective; it can make them say or do mean things, Draco. It was one of the reasons Harry treated you so badly."

The Harrys and Draco gasped. Older Harry opened his mouth, but before he could ask a question, Sirius went on, "The Horcrux that was in the transfigured Slytherin locket that Hermione wore? It too warped her mind, Harry. Had to get it off her. I trust you've noted the difference?"

Harry nodded, dumbfounded.

Hermione stood up and approached the Potters. Unsure of who was the Harry she was used to, she hugged them both. "You're my best friend, Harry and… Harry. I just felt so jealous, and I didn't know how to deal with it."

Severus snorted, and walked toward Sirius. "Indeed… this is good news, mutt. But you haven't told us how come you're alive."

Sirius sauntered towards a small round table that had materialized next to the fire. He grabbed a glass of red wine and held it aloft, pointing towards the blond Slytherin. "Draco saved me. After I fell through the Veil, I was in a place without form. I was surrounded by mists. Draco somehow approached me and created form out of the fog. I barely remember it."

Sirius sipped the wine, winking at Draco. "It may be that he cast a spell, or he had a wand with him that he used to save me. I do remember the golden light."

Draco scratched his chin, frowning in thought. "It's funny, Black. I don't remember doing it. I trust I would recall the momentous occasion when I saved you!"

Sirius lifted the glass at Draco in a silent toast. "You will, Draco. In your personal future."

Younger Harry looked at the golden vision of Draco blushing. In a small voice, he said tentatively, "Do I get to stay here, now? This is my time after all."

Sirius walked towards his godson and put his hand on young Harry's shoulder. "I'm afraid you can't stay, Harry. Your older version has become intertwined with the fabric of this time. I wasn't lying when I said your two versions can't coexist in the same reality for long, it's-"

"You never told me that!" growled young Harry.

"He did tell me, though," said the older one, his hand clenching painfully Draco's wrist.

Sirius muttered softly to himself, "It's hard to keep all the details of my plotting straight!"

"But so many people have died in that time," moaned young Potter. He added in a whisper, "And Draco hates me!"

Sirius grabbed Harry's elbow, shaking it slightly. "You still have Ron and Hermione behind you; your other friends, the rest of the Weasleys. You're never alone, Harry!"

Sirius continued in a soft voice, "There's a journey you have to make, Harry. You still have to grow and find yourself, to enjoy life in the company of your loved ones. It won't be easy but it will be simpler than before."

Young Harry lifted his green eyes, looking at his godfather's face. "Will you visit me?"

"If I can, I will. I can't make promises though."

Sirius pointed to the door. "Outside you will find the same device we used to get here. You'll arrive in Hermione's apartment."

Draco saw younger Harry walk slowly to the door, shuffling his feet, bereft of his usual arrogance. He squeezed gently older Harry's hand and sauntered towards the other Potter, who was halfway to the door.

Grabbing his shoulder, Draco leaned towards him. "Don't despair, Harry. You and I, we belong together… enemies, lovers, friends. All that and more we've been to each other."

The blond waved towards the door and the world outside. "You've taught me that we are masters of our own fate, that we can make our destiny. If my future version does not want you… You are still the Vanquisher, the boy who survived Voldemort multiple times. You're still my Harry."

Draco hugged the younger Harry, who wrapped his arms around the blond. Silent tears slid down from both Seekers' faces, shining by the light of the sconces.

With a wistful smile, young Harry bid goodbye to his friends in that time and opened the door. Before he could close it though, a slim figure wearing a rich velvet gown stepped through it.

"A word if you please, Harry," said Narcissa Malfoy. After he nodded, she walked with Harry out of the room, closing gently the door.

"I know my son very well, Harry. Ever since he was little, my Dragon has been obsessed with you." Narcissa held up her hand. "Not your fame or heroics, but the story of the lonely boy who lost his parents. With Lucius gone most of the time and only me to take care of him, little Draco was afraid that he would be left alone. So that aspect of your story fascinated him."

"Really?" Harry's eyes shined with tears. Narcissa wiped gently a teardrop from Harry's cheek with the pad of her thumb.

"Really, Harry. Draco is stubborn, just like his father. But he is also kind and gentle. If you give him space; if you explain your actions, what my cousin Sirius said about Horcruxes - whatever they are - influencing your actions, I'm sure he'll understand."

"But he's with Boot now!" growled Harry, thinking about the blond with another boy.

Narcissa put her hand around Harry's elbow and walked with him to the end of the corridor, where a ball of light shined on the floor. "You were his first, Harry. Also bear in mind that Draco is very curious. Pique his curiosity and he'll be intrigued."

In the middle of the corridor, they stopped. Harry continued his lonely walk to the future. Just before he disappeared, he waved to Narcissa who wiped a tear of her own from her alabaster cheek.

* * *

When she entered the Room, Narcissa found Sirius arguing with Severus. Shaking her head, she muttered softly, "Some things never change."

"You could've disposed of all the Horcruxes with your strange, unexplained powers," said Severus.

Sirius lifted his hand, counting with his fingers, "The Diary is gone; as well as the Slytherin pendant, the cursed Ring, the Hufflepuff cup, Nagini." He smiled warmly at his godson. "Horcrux in Harry, gone too."

Severus sneered. "There is one you didn't get!"

Sirius growled, lifting his arms. "Ok, Snape! The bloody Diadem. Didn't know where it was. The Grey Lady wouldn't tell me; apparently she resented the small prank I played on her!"

Remus snickered. "Sirius, don't ever change!"

"I won't, Moony." Turning to Severus, he added, "Besides I lost a lot of time making sure Dobby and Kreacher didn't interfere." Sirius growled, "Those bloody elves are hard to manage, I should know!"

Harry frowned; he was standing next to Ron and Hermione. He saidn in a worried voice to his godfather, "Don't forget, Tom Riddle is the master of the most powerful wand ever created, the Elder wand!"

As he hugged his mother, Draco hid a smirk in Narcissa's blond locks. There was a vital piece of information the Slytherin was holding close to his chest. Like a good member of the Serpent House, not everything was as it seemed with the devious blond Seeker.

Sirius went to the table and grabbed a glass of firewhiskey. As he lifted it and peered at its content, he turned to face the other occupants of the room. "Tom Riddle's intentions to rule the world are the least of our problems."

Severus crossed his arms, frowning at the Marauder. "I wouldn't say that, Black. The Dark Lord is quite powerful with that unspeakable wand."

Sirius pointed at the people in the room. "It's up to you to stop him."

He frowned, holding up his hand and caressing the strange silver ring. "Voldemort meddles in things he doesn't understand. He _could_ destroy reality."

 

 


	27. In the Hall of the ancient mages

 

"What do you mean; Voldemort is going to destroy reality?" Draco walked up to the table the Room had provided and grabbed a glass of firewhiskey. It was only Narcissa's angry glare coming from near the door that made him put it down.

Sirius went to a chair that appeared next to the table and sat down. He looked around at his friends and the students, motioning for Harry to approach him. The Gryffindor, still shell-shocked with developments, approached hesitatingly.

It seemed unreal that his godfather was alive, that he had just talked with - and been hit by - an earlier version of himself, that he didn't have Voldemort's Horcrux in him anymore thanks to Sirius.

Harry tentatively put a hand on his godfather's shoulder, squeezing it gently. Sirius lifted his own and gently patted Harry. "Haven't you lot noticed something odd during the last few months?"

Frowning as if she was sitting exams and had to get her usual perfect marks, Hermione piped up, "Well, apart from the incident with Ron and the other Ron from the future; the Pensieve memories and all that, no." She walked near to the fire and wrapped her arms around herself. "What exactly do you mean, Sirius?"

"Little things that do not add up, but suddenly they do make sense; things you might've seen but others didn't, like the world was shifting around you."

Draco went to his mother; frowning at her son, Narcissa lifted her hand to wipe off ashy smudges from the blond's cheek.

The Slytherin turned to Sirius. "Now that you mention it, there was something with this Room." He motioned to the entrance wall. "Sometimes there's a tapestry of dancing trolls outside; other times not."

Harry sauntered to his lover, touching the spot on his alabaster wrist where Draco was most sensitive. "You're right, Draco. No there are two ways to enter the Room, but I remembered only one. Could it be the time travel affected me?"

Draco held the Gryffindor's hand, squeezing it tightly. "No, because I recall only one way to enter and I'm not from the future." He pointed towards Sirius. "Those changes Black mentions affect others too. Cho for example. People seem to think she betrayed your group during Umbridge's inquisitorial reign."

Rubbing his knuckles, Ron growled, "She did, the traitor!"

Hermione swatted his arm. "It wasn't Cho, it was Marietta Edgecombe! I remember seeing her suffering the effects of my curse; the letters on her face."

Harry frowned. "Edgecombe doesn't have them anymore. And I recall both Cho and Marietta betraying us."

Remus went to the table and grabbed a glass of butterbeer, taking a sip. "I've seen students harassing both Cho and Marietta. Had to take points off the four Houses several times during past term. What does it all mean, Sirius?"

"The mutt doesn't know! He's making it up." Severus crossed his arms, glaring at his erstwhile antagonist. "I doubt he is that wise."

"This is all tied up with how I saved Harry." Sirius explained, ignoring the glaring Potions Master whilst he lifted his hand and gazed at the ring of the serpent biting its tail. "Harry, you didn't travel back in time."

"But then how…" Harry spluttered.

"He did, I also saw myself…" said Ron, waving his arms.

"Then how do you explain…" Hermione primly lifted her hand as if she was in McGonagall's class.

Sirius raised his arms, silently asking for silence. After a few seconds, he continued, "I'm sure Hermione can tell you the complete theory regarding Time-Turners. It's considered impossible to change the past because it would create paradoxes."

"That's true! It said so in the book I read." Hermione fixed a stern gaze on Harry as if he was guilty of violating universal laws about continuity.

"But then how did I change things? How come none of my friends are dead?" Harry held up his hands to prevent Ron's retort. "Not that I'd ever want that!"

Sirius intertwined his fingers, cracking the knuckles whilst Narcissa shook her head, admonishing him. "That's not good for you, Sirius!"

"Whatever, Narcissa." Sirius paced around the Room, his robes billowing, eerily resembling Snape's.

"After Draco woke me from that slumber, that incorporeal state I was in, he vanished. I was left alone. I don't remember much of that time. It went on, perhaps for minutes or decades." Sirius looked at Draco, who was holding Narcissa's arm.

"I saw a door and opened it. I entered a place, a hall full of crystal spheres. They were stacked on shelves upon shelves, glowing eerily in the sepulchral light. Filling the room." Sirius paused, crossing his arms.

"I've been to that place." Draco took two steps towards Sirius. "That's where you took me after Lestrange's dagger hurt me. So you woke up in the Hall of Prophecies, in the Ministry?"

"You're wrong, Draco." Sirius faced his friends with a grave mien, bereft of the playful mirth Remus knew well from their Marauder days.

"Those crystal spheres, they're not prophecies at all. They are doorways into other realities. Using them I could travel within and find any world I wanted, any situation I desired." Sirius pointed towards Severus, waving his hand to include Remus. "There are universes where you two are lovers."

Snape snorted angrily. "Indeed… you are crazy, mutt!"

Sirius smirked craftily. "There are other worlds where we are together, Sev. Come on; admit that it's an intriguing possibility."

Harry leaned to whisper in Draco's ear. "Can you believe it? Sirius and Snape lovers?"

The blond muttered, "Mother tells me stories about their Hogwarts days. It's not as farfetched as it sounds."

Harry shuddered, paying attention to his godfather's words once more.

"… the parchments I read imply there's a -" Sirius held up his arms as if he was studying an invisible scroll.

"Who built that place? Where is it?" Remus interrupted his friend, his amber eyes shining with excitement as he imagined ancient and distant places.

"I'm not sure, Remus. I used a spell to translate the meaning, the essence of the parchments. The signs appeared at times Sanskrit or Chinese, perhaps cuneiform? Who knows? I used the same spell we employed to track people in the Marauder's Map."

Remus nodded, fingering his moustache. "I recall you based it upon Lily's charm work. She provided the key insight." He looked at Harry, smiling wistfully, "Your mother was a superbly gifted witch, Harry. Without her the Map wouldn't have been what it is."

Sirius lifted his gaze towards the ceiling of the Room of Requirement, shaking his head as if dislodge it of memories of the past. He continued telling the story. "There's a window at the far wall of the Hall that is mostly foggy. There were times it would clear and I'd see vast mountainous vistas in the horizon. I thought they were the Himalayas, other days they looked like the photographs of the Andes I saw in Lily's travel books. The view changed as if the place _moved."_

Sirius fingered his goatee, seemingly deep in contemplation. He murmured, "I think the Hall may be behind the Hindu belief in reincarnation and the purgatory Homer talks about. Gazing at the spheres, people would see their loved ones in different situations..."

"That's all very interesting, Black." Severus frowned at the Marauder, pacing around the fire. "But how is Voldemort going to destroy the world?"

"Those changes you've noted, Harry and Draco? They mean the frontiers between realities are weakening. Doing things in one realm affects neighbouring ones. That's why when you killed the Horcrux in the other Harry, you got rid of the one you had." Sirius leaned against the fireplace, its light making his mane shine and his eyes sparkle.

Harry elbowed Draco sharply. "You see, it wasn't my fault I was so mean."

"Could've told me!" huffed Draco, turning to listen to Black once more.

"- troll tapestry, the fact that people contradict each other about who betrayed you to Umbridge? Confusion will mount as realities collide if we do not stop Voldemort. Chaos will be unleashed upon the worlds, Ragnarok will be at hand." Sirius ruffled his mane, dislodging one curl that fell in front of his eyes whilst Severus observed him intently.

Harry's hand slid into that of his lover, who was shivering. Draco had read old books in the Manor library that hinted at this, tomes as old as the tales of Beedle the bard.

"The Hall of Realities, as I call it, is only accessible through this." Sirius lifted his hand, pointing towards the silver ring. "The _Ouroboros_ , the serpent that eats its tail - the symbol of eternity. This is the key to reaching the Hall, at least I used to think so from the parchments but…"

Severus looked at Remus, exchanging a worried look. It was Moony who continued, "I take it that Voldemort is able to reach the Hall, then."

Sirius went to the table and grabbed a glass of red wine provided by the Room, finally he nodded. "I think he does it through Dark Magic. He was there two times; he used the crystal spheres to travel to other realities and hide his Horcruxes there."

Harry groaned, slapping his forehead. "Don't tell me there are more!"

"I counted nine, Harry. Don't worry, I destroyed the other two," replied Sirius, smiling at his godson.

"I thought that seven was a magical number, that Voldemort would stop there." Remus took out his wand as if he was considering creating a spell to find the Hall.

"Any number is magical, Remus." Sirius finished his drink; holding the glass aloft, he peered at the last of the wine. "Voldemort's careless use of Dark Magic in the Hall of Realities has weakened the barriers between worlds. We have a more acute problem though; the parchments say that there is a prime reality from which the others derive."

Sirius gazed at his godson, who was securely wrapped in the arms of his blond lover. "In that prime reality, you and Ginny are married, Harry."

Draco growled possessively whilst Sirius continued, "And you're married to Astoria Greengrass, Draco."

Harry clutched Draco's arm against his chest, muttering angrily, "Don't even think about it, Dragon!"

Sirius directed his gaze to Severus and then Remus as his face became sombre. "You two are dead, just like Fred and Tonks."

"Never thought I would survive the Dark Lord." Severus said defiantly. Remus approached the dour Potions Master and clapped his shoulder. "Neither did I, Severus, and we're not out of the woods yet."

"I don't agree with those parchments of the ancient kings and mages that built the Hall. To me all realities are equal; none is privileged enough to be called the prime one." Sirius twirled the glass stem on his fingers, finally putting the glass on the table.

"However, the sphere that contains that reality is powerful. If Voldemort gets it…"

Remus finished his friend's sentence, "... we'd be finished!"

Hermione worried her lip just as her mind struggled with the new information. Sirius' words had opened vast avenues of research she wanted to undertake. However she still had doubts about one thing.

"I figured out that message you told us, about the curious incident of the cat at night?" Hermione tugged nervously the hem of her sweater.

Sirius wrapped an arm around Remus, smiling lazily at Moony. "What do you think it meant, Hermione?"

"Well, Sherlock Holmes pointed out that the fact that the dog did not bark at night meant the thief was someone known to it."

"And?"

"Obviously Crookshanks' behaviour towards you in your disguise as the old man meant that he knew you from before." Hermione said exasperatedly, "Since Crookshanks appears to like Draco, I thought the old man was him!"

Draco snickered softly until Harry elbowed him sharply. The blond huffed and took a step back, glaring at his lover.

Sirius clapped his hands. "Bravo! Well done, Hermione. Though that is not precisely what I meant. In fact, I really wanted to distract you; didn't want you to find out the truth too soon but I provided you an important-"

At that moment the door to the Room opened. Sirius stopped speaking as a slim girl entered, wearing her Ravenclaw tie loosely wrapped around her elbow. She was cupping her hands, holding a small mammal which Harry recognized with a pang of guilt as his hedgehog, Hector.

"Hello, Sirius! I see you finally listened to me and decided to come clean with Harry," said Luna dreamily as she lifted up the hedgehog and petted its nose whilst the mammal sniffed.

"It was hard; the two Harrys almost knocked me down!"

"I didn't," retorted Harry indignantly as Hermione said tentatively, "Wait, you knew Sirius was around? Why didn't you tell us?"

"Sirius asked me to keep the secret." Luna put the hedgehog in the pocket of her robe as she smiled secretively. "Harry, I come because Hector has made friends with a glumblehocker."

"A what?" Harry blinked owlishly.

Luna waved her arm. "They like to eat chocolate while people don't pay attention, that's why it seems to disappear so rapidly. They can be a nuisance sometimes but they're cute!"

"Hector is friends with them?"

"Yes. The thing is… he might pick up bad habits." Luna frowned fiercely, crossing her arms. "Your chocolate might start vanishing, so I want to make sure if it's ok if they're friendly?"

"Sure, Luna. Whatever you decide." Harry smiled at the snowy-haired girl who always managed to lift up his spirits, even when things seemed at their darkest.

"Fine. See you around. Bye Sirius." Luna skipped gaily towards the door, squinting at the blond. "Draco, don't scowl so much, you might attract scharfbaggers." Harry noted idly that Luna was wearing brightly coloured flip-flops.

Hermione crossed her arms, huffing. "I like Luna, but she is quite crazy, inventing those animals!"

Sirius waved a finger at the enraged Gryffindor girl. "I wouldn't say so, Hermione. In fact, those animals that Luna talks about? They exist in different realities."

Ron and Draco said simultaneously, "They do?"

The two turned to glare at Harry when he snickered at their synchronization.

"Indeed. Once I had to escape an enraged snorkack. Wasn't easy, let me tell you." Sirius gazed at the farthest wall of the Room as if he was seeing distant vistas of quite different worlds. "The beasts Luna talks about? They sometimes cross into our world when the frontiers between realities are at their weakest, like at Samhain or Beltane. Luna has a rare gift, she can see into realms hidden to most people. That's why she knew I was around. She helped me with my plots."

"That might be fine. But you haven't answered my question. What did you mean with the cat?" Hermione glared at Sirius, her arms akimbo.

"Crookshanks' appearance is another symptom of the crumbling walls between realities. You see, Hermione - that wasn't exactly _your_ Crookshanks. The cat came from a neighbouring world; one in which Hagrid was evil and Draco was very good friends with the half-Kneazle."

Hermione lifted her index finger to her lips, musing aloud, "So that's why he appeared and disappeared so easily. I didn't know how he made it to Voldemort's castle. I thought someone took him there."

Sirius rubbed his hands, smiling in the gleeful way that made both Severus and Remus shiver with apprehension. "The moment has come to make our plans. We need to vanquish Voldemort for good and stop the collapse of the realms."

* * *

"When are you going to tell Harry about the blow job?" Fred smirked, putting his arm around the Slytherin.

Draco stood beside the window on the Gryffindor dormitory, watching the pouring rain; the pitter-patter of the waterdrops against the windowpane distracted him from the task at hand. "He'll be mad. He'll think I only used him so I could fulfil the Unbreakable Vow I made to aunt Bellatrix."

George looked up from the Quidditch magazine he'd pilfered from Ron's trunk. "Don't worry, if you want we'll tell him the reason you made that Vow was to save our handsome hides."

George whistled softly. "I must say Bellatrix was rather prim, never understanding that her words could be used to fulfil the Vow in a rather lewd way."

"Where in the hell is Sirius?" Draco cast a _Tempus_ spell and glared at the results. "It's been five minutes since he took Weasley and Granger to that Hall of his."

Fred patted Draco's head. "The reason you're nervous is because Harry was first to go there. Admit it, you want to protect the speccy git."

Draco took out his wand and pointed it at Fred. "Don't provoke me! Do you want pink hair?"

George whistled appreciatively from the scarlet-coloured couch where he lay spread-eagled. "Pink is the new black. Can you do mine too?"

Draco huffed. "You two are insufferable! Should've let you rotting in that dungeon!"

Fred leered at the blond, turning to wink at George. "Do not mind ickle Drakkiekins, Gorge. He loves us!"

"Like I'd love a bunch of crazed, literature-quoting Jarvies!" snarled Draco.

At that moment there was a bright glow near the couch. Sirius looked up at them, stroking the _Ouroboros_ ring. "You lot are the last ones. Come on!"

"Finally! You took your time, Black; the awful Gryffindor colours were giving me a headache!" grumbled Draco as he sauntered towards George and Sirius, Fred by his side.

The boys grabbed both of Sirius' arms as the Marauder rubbed the silver ring, transporting them to the Hall of Realities.

* * *

Sirius told them where to go inside the Hall. Ron and Hermione were together in what Black had dubbed the Eastern wall, nearby the window showing the changing landscape the Hall visited.

Remus and Severus were at the opposite wall, protecting the door; waiting to trap the Death Eaters Voldemort might bring with him.

The twins, Draco and Sirius were in the shadows behind Harry, guarding his back.

The Marauder called softly to Harry, "Look at the crystal spheres over that shelf. The one that's supposed to hold the prime reality will call strongly to you. Just… don't look too closely at it or it will suck you into that universe. Remember, if Voldemort should have control of it, he'll escape there and manipulate it so it affects all others."

"Or else he could break it?" asked Draco, lifting his eyebrow.

Sirius nodded tiredly, "The crystal balls are strong, but if they bump against each other, I don't know what could happen, the realms might mingle with each other. People and beasts would be displaced just like Luna's creatures but much, much worse."

Sirius said softly to his godson, "I'll cast a spell that will protect them, you'll hardly hear us. We won't be able to communicate, but I don't want the Death Eaters to wreak havoc in the hall."

Draco heard a noise, a scuffle near the window that suddenly cleared, showing a breathtaking view. From the distance, Draco could recognize the Swiss Alps. He stared at the outline of the Matterhorn but a movement to his right left him no time to enjoy the scenery.

Draco took out his wand and the battle was joined again, though not before Sirius cast a specialized version of the _Protego_ shield to safeguard the precious spheres.

Draco saw a man crouching near the shelf to his left. He was unknown to him; the bald wizard leered at him, showing crooked, yellowed teeth. The blond threw the first curse he remembered from Moody's teachings. _'Uberrime madesco!'_

The Death Eater slipped in the moisture that suddenly appeared everywhere he touched; the water eventually encapsulated him.

Meanwhile, Harry approached the shelf where the glowing ball containing the prime reality was located. He felt drawn to it; as if it was singing in a language only he could understand - like the golden egg that held the clue to the next task in the Triwizard Tournament, the one that could only be understood in the water.

The globe was small compared to the other ones situated nearby. Yet Harry felt sure it was the one Sirius had talked about.

Harry stared at the swirling surface of the sphere; in its depths he saw himself sitting forlornly in a swing, his trainers barely touching the yellowed grass as he looked at what he desired the most. In front of that Harry there was a happy child with an older sibling and a mother; what Harry never had. His childhood robbed of any loving relative due to the machinations of Voldemort - and as he had come to realize, because of Dumbledore's schemes.

If he'd been put for adoption with a wizard family that had children like the Weasleys, he would have had siblings and parents, like the image of the child within the orb of majesty that held the prime reality.

Harry picked up the crystal sphere, throwing a glance behind him. He could see the dim shapes of his friends fighting Death Eaters.

He was tempted to join them and vanquish the dark wizards, but his sojourn in the present had taught him that his friends could take care of themselves. He didn't have to be the one who always got them out of trouble. Sometimes _they_ rescued him; a relief for the boy whom the Wizarding World always depended upon, like a crutch.

He hefted the ball, gazing at the whirling interior that so wanted to suck him into that realm in which Harry saw:

_Colin's slim hand, lifeless in the Great Hall in Hogwarts, surrounded by rubble, the detritus of battle._

_Harry grabbing Voldemort's shoulders and jumping into the abyss; the ruins of the castle visible in the distance._

_Remus and Tonks laying side by side, their hands almost touching as if they wanted to keep their connection alive - even in death._

_Draco walking next to his mother, their white heads bobbing slightly as they walked upon a bridge that would take them out of Hogwarts and Harry's life for long years._

_Steam pouring out of the Hogwarts Express as it moved smoothly out of platform 9 ¾; a black-haired child barely visible through the moving window. The vision expanded and Harry saw he was next to Ginny, Ron and Hermione. But Draco wasn't there._

Harry shivered. Were these true visions of what would be, or what _might_ be?

He felt the inexorable pull to enter the crystal sphere and shape that reality so that it would fit his needs. So that Draco and him would be together, forever. That universe called up something in his blood - it was his to mould, to shape as he wanted.

Harry was about to utter the words that would permit him to enter the glowing sphere, having acquired the knowledge how to do so. It was as if the orb possessed sentience and weaved a spell upon Harry's mind, whispering words, enchanting him so the protagonist of its story would join and would irrefutably cement its position amongst its crystal companions as the unassailable prime reality. The one upon which the others depended.

It was a heady feeling, holding in the palm of his left hand the means with which he could shape the world to his liking. But Harry resisted the siren's call to enter; knowing that here was where he wanted to be, with Draco and his friends, where Remus and Tonks were alive, where he was reunited with his godfather at long last.

Harry heard Tom Riddle's voice just behind him when he was lowering the orb. "Remember my words when I first met you, Harry?"

Harry turned, still holding the ball in his hand. He took out his wand, pointing it directly at Tom's heart. The Dark Lord, wearing the visage of a youthful student, appeared not to notice.

Harry growled, "You mean when you killed my parents? Sorry, Tom, I was a baby!"

Riddle waved his hand, as if killing Harry's parents and inadvertently implanting a Horcrux in him were just everyday occurrences. "No, when I wanted the Philosopher's Stone. I told you that _there is only power, that some fools were too weak to seek it. Have you learned your lesson?"_

"So? Speak your piece, Tom. I grow weary of listening to you."

"In your hands you hold the key to our future, Harry. Join me in that world. We will begin anew." Tom smiled craftily at the Gryffindor. "Just like you did with Draco, forging a friendship with him. We'll modify the conditions of that world so that there's no imbalance. No need to fight between the Dark and the Light. No more deaths, Harry!"

"What would you do to ensure that, Tom?" said Harry, trying to distract the youthful-looking Dark Lord. The Gryffindor snorted, backing towards the shelf. Brandishing his wand at Voldemort, he lowered his hand and gently put the ball on the lowest shelf, upon an ornate cup made of glittering adamantine threads.

Rising slowly, Harry waved his hand, prepared to cast a spell that would blast apart Tom Riddle, after watching him take one of the crystal spheres, a small one.

Before he could do it, Tom ran towards the Gryffindor, whirling madly like a dervish - doing his trick of transforming into black smoke and escaping with Harry.

Only this time, Tom didn't watch his back.

Observing the Dark Lord about to kidnap Harry, Draco jumped on the swirling dark cloud. Together, the three disappeared from the Hall of Realities.

* * *

Draco fell with a thud, knocking his head on a rock. He knelt down as he glanced at the landscape. There were rocks all around them; baked by the inclement sun they had a burnt orange hue. Apparently they were in a desert.

In the distance there was a massive rock formation that jutted out of the plain, it was red-coloured, its hue almost as intense as the tapestries in the Gryffindor Common Room.

Draco couldn't study the landscape more because Tom Riddle was facing Harry. With a lazy swish of the Elder wand, Tom easily repulsed Harry's spell and disarmed him. The brunet tumbled to the ground, a rock nicking his wrist.

Harry was effectively at Tom Riddle's inexistent mercy.

"Prepare to die, Harry! _Ava…"_

Draco quickly shot a spell at Voldemort. The surprised Dark Lord turned and beheld Draco, whose silver hair shined brightly in the sun.

The Slytherin's robe was slightly torn, his tie was askew. His smirk firmly in place, Draco drawled, "You'll have to finish me first, Voldemort! Harry is not alone!"

Harry knelt down and shouted despairingly to his boyfriend. "Don't! Draco, he'll kill you!"

The Gryffindor put his palms together as if in prayer, saying hoarsely, "Go away, Draco! Escape while you can!"

Tom Riddle swayed his arm towards Harry but Draco hastily cast a shield whilst he taunted the Dark Lord. "What's the matter, Voldemort? Too coward to take on a pureblood?"

Draco sneered, the corner of his lip curling as if he was facing a cowed Jarvey in front of him. "You, nothing but a lowly, impostor mongrel; you would deign teach magic to your betters by blood and breeding?"

"HOW DARE YOU, YOU COWARD? I'LL KILL YOU!" roared the Dark Lord.

Draco waved his wand as he smirked infuriatingly, a gesture Harry was intimately acquainted with, further enraging the fuming Dark Lord. "I dare because I know something you don't. Because unlike you I was born in a magical family. I grew up learning magic lore."

"Lucius is a spineless coward. You just got your father killed, Draco! I promise I will torture him before I kill him, because of you, unspeakable brat!"

"But my father has a great library, Tom. Pity you never read the books there, like the tales of Beedle the bard."

"What do I care for such stupid nonsense?" Tom's handsome face scrunched up in distaste whilst Draco directed his gaze to Harry, indicating with a slight movement of his hand that he should take cover. The brunet made his way to a brush, his muscles flexing as he debated whether to rush towards the Dark Lord to keep him from killing his lover.

Harry started moving slowly towards the boulders that lay behind Tom Riddle whilst Draco continued talking, effectively distracting the Dark Lord. "There's a myth in there which you might find instructive, Voldemort. The tale of the most powerful wand of all times."

Draco motioned with his wand towards Tom's hand which held the Elder wand. "The one you're wielding, Voldemort. In all your plotting I reckon you never ever took into consideration that a pureblood might find out how powerful the wand is. Bet Dumbledore never thought of it either. Both of you wasted your time using people like pawns!"

"It doesn´t matter, Draco. I gained rightful use of the wand when I disarmed the stupid crippled Auror, McGonagall and the pureblood traitors Weasleys." Tom laughed cruelly, swishing his wand elegantly and casting a spell that destroyed a rock just behind Draco. Shards rained upon the blond, who shrugged carelessly.

"Do tell me how you found out they might be the wand's rightful owners." Draco drawled, cocking his eyebrows as the corner of his lips tugged upward in a gesture Harry knew well. It meant the blond had something up his sleeve.

"Horace stole the memory vials of my captured Death Eaters who agreed to give testimony of that battle to the Aurors." Tom sneered, an ugly gesture in his otherwise handsome face. "After giving them deathly potions, of course."

Voldemort shot a spell at Draco; it was a violet beam that the blond parried with one of his own.

Breathing heavily, his silver hair dishevelled by the burst of magic needed to contain the powerful Dark Lord, Draco concluded with a triumphant sneer, "I was interested in Dumbledore's wand ever since I read the Beedle tale. I've been studying the Headmaster for years, at first because I was angry he always favoured his Gryffindorks."

"Indeed the old coot did, always." Tom Riddle frowned angrily when he recalled the memories of his days at Hogwarts. Numerous Gryffindors were amongst the students who bullied him before his grasp of Dark Magic made them recoil in fear from him.

"My father's contacts in the Ministry have proven useful, you know?" said Draco, holding his smooth hawthorn wand delicately, poised to defend himself if the Dark Lord attacked him.

In the midst of his confrontation with Riddle, Draco started visualizing his childhood room at the Manor. Narcissa consoling him after he'd fell from his broom. Especially the lullaby his mother used to sing when he was stressed.

"How?"

"For example, by tampering with the memory vials of prisoners, erasing the final portions of their recollections. The part that showed that I and Fred disarmed McGonagall during the battle, after she did the same with my teacher, Moody!"

"YOU LIE!" shouted Tom, taking two steps towards Draco. "I'm the master of the Elder wand!"

"Then prove it!"

Draco heard distinctly in his mind Narcissa's sweet contralto; the voice that bespoke of his golden yesterdays. A time when his parents were unassailably strong, when he dreamt of meeting the boy who vanquished Voldemort as a mere toddler, when Draco imagined he would become Harry's friend and together they would rule Slytherin and the school.

"… _after the Snitch flutters away and the game's lost / you'll find me by your side, holding your hand…"_ sang Narcissa in Draco's crystal-clear recollections of his mother.

Tom Riddle shot the Unforgivable at Draco, the bright green beam of _Avada Kedavra_ arching towards the blond whilst Harry cried, "Draco, noooo!"

The blond Slytherin used the melody and the feelings of warmth and safety it called up on him to power the spell Lupin taught them in DADA.

Wielding the hawthorn wand that inextricably held all the power of the Elder wand, Draco cast _'Adagissimo.'_

The two spells met in the middle of the desert. Voldemort's magic, powerful as it was, could not withstand the magical strength of the most powerful wand ever created. The green light began to return to him, slowly, as if it was swimming in honey - the result of Draco's spell that slowed time.

The Elder wand escaped Voldemort's grasp, swirling through the air and passing through the conjoined beams. It sailed towards Draco's outstretched palm. After interacting with the contradictory spells, it had acquired a golden hue.

Just before _Avada_ hit him, Voldemort threw himself to the ground, grabbing the crystal sphere he'd brought with him from the hall of the ancient mages.

Tom Riddle was bathed in a soft glow as he imploded, becoming elongated like a ghost trying to enter through a keyhole, finally disappearing into the sphere and going into another reality.

* * *

Draco lifted the golden wand to his face and examined it minutely, fingering the knobs leisurely in the scant seconds before he was tackled by a jubilant Harry and fell to the ground.

The Gryffindor growled, "Don't do it again, Dragon! You almost killed me with fright, I reckoned Tom would prevail."

Harry kissed him hungrily, holding Draco's head between his palms and chastising his lover. "Never do that again, Draco! I thought I'd lost you! I'd rather Voldemort killed me than losing you!"

Draco patted softly Harry's cheek. "The Dark Lord is defeated though he escaped to another realm. I'm getting -"

"Do not worry, boys," said Sirius as he walked toward the entwined pair on the ground, Remus by his side. "Voldemort has travelled to the far past. He won't return, for that sphere was damaged. I put a spell on it that would attract his attention and make him grab it." Sirius fingered his goatee as he smirked. "Actually, the spell is one James and I developed to prank Severus."

Remus thwacked the Marauder on the head. Then he looked around and pointed to the ochre rocks a mile behind them. "I know this place! That's Ayers Rock; we're in Australia!"

"Indeed, Remy, we are. And the crystal sphere will take Voldemort approximately 6,000 years to the past. He'll be stranded there until he dies, bereft of Horcruxes."

Harry frowned, recalling Remus' strange words about discovering a noseless figure depicted in the caverns of this part of Australia. "What if he creates a Horcrux? What if he gets to live forever and we meet him again?"

Sirius smirked in a sinister fashion. "He won't, Harry. He has no wand. Moreover, Riddle will find that the aborigines of Australia practice a different magic than his own, more powerful. To them, he'll become one of the serpent beings that battled around Uluru."

Remus cocked an eyebrow. "Not to sound like Severus; but how do you know this, Siri?"

Sirius shrugged nonchalantly. "I watched a lot of the spheres. Didn't have you or Harry to entertain me."

Remus huffed, glaring at his friend whilst Sirius continued, "The beneficial magic of the spheres that gave him his youthful appearance will wear out in time and he'll end up as disfigured as he was here, lonely and powerless against the ancient myths of this land."

Sirius opened his arms, pointing to the vast Outback around them.

Harry whispered to Draco, "How did you know the wand would obey you and not him? Slytherin cunning?"

"Actually, I wasn't sure, Harry." Draco blushed under Harry, squirming a bit. "I heard Father one time when Severus visited, before he became embroiled in Voldemort's web once more. They talked about wands and Severus mentioned he'd heard they didn't work well once the wizards were defeated by their opponents."

Harry lowered his face and traced with his lips Draco's eyelids. "You were lucky it worked and you're alive. If Voldemort had killed you, I would've used one of Sirius' spheres to bring you back and then I would've killed you myself!"

 

_Next, the conclusion._


	28. Epilogue: Unusual ending

**April 30th, 1998**

_"At the end of my reveries_   
_you're my redemption and my sin;_   
_you and me joining our bare skin,_   
_whispering your name to the breeze."_

Ron finished reading aloud Draco's poem, putting the parchment on the bench. He fingered Draco's fine calligraphy on the soft vellum, mumbling, "Blimey, that's disturbing!"

Draco angrily put the parchment on his school bag, looking at the door of the locker room. He lifted an eyebrow, muttering, "Still a homophobe, Weasley? I'd thought that after all we've gone through-"

Ron interrupted him, raising his hand and brushing his fringe. "No, it isn't what you think, Draco. What if Harry tells Hermione about the poem?"

The redhead shuddered, recalling his girlfriend's tenacious streak. "She'll want me to write one too, and I'm piss at it!"

Draco took the leather gloves from his Quidditch kit, carelessly pulling aside his green Quidditch cloak. "Do not worry, Weasley. I'll dictate poems to you. I'll be your Cyrano, your Beedle!"

Ron frowned as he took out the case that contained the golden Snitches. "I don't need you to be my bard, Malfoy. Just... tell Harry to keep your poetry to himself, please!"

Draco sat on the wooden bench to adjust his black dragon leather boots. "I'll do it, but you know Harry, Ron. Once he's made up his mind..."

"... he doesn't change it," finished Weasley, sighing wearily. He took out his wand and cast _Tempus_ , frowning at the results. "Where is he anyway? He's the one who insisted on playing you one on one!"

"Probably with your brothers." Draco looked sharply at his shiny boots, carefully moving his right heel to test the balance. "Or he might be escaping that crazy elf, Dobby."

Ron shook his head, watching Draco. "Leave your footgear alone, Malfoy. You're quite the narcissist, you know?"

"I'm only trying to look my best when I catch the Snitch before Harry!"

Ron snorted, hefting the small golden ball that would flutter its wings once it was activated. "In your dreams, Draco!"

The blond Slytherin smirked. "You're talking to the captain of the team that won the Quidditch Cup!"

The redhead went to the door of the locker room, turning his face to glare at Draco. "That was a fluke! And Harry caught the Snitch if you remember."

"Not before I got so many goals that it didn't matter whether he caught the Snitch or not." Draco brushed his green cloak, shifting from his right foot to his left as he gazed at his reflection in the mirror.

"Who would've believed you'd be a better Chaser than Seeker?" growled Ron, recalling the indignation of watching his beloved team lose as he sat on the stands. "You only scored so many 'cause I wasn't Keeper; it was that prat, McLaggen!"

The door opened, almost hitting Ron. "Watch out, will you!"

"Sorry, Ronniekins." Fred sauntered into the room. "What's taking you so long?"

George's voice came from outside. "Probably Draco is discussing with him how to tell Harry about the BJ."

Draco snorted, picking up his school bag. "Already told him; didn't get mad at me."

George walked into the room, throwing a potion vial to his twin, who deftly caught it in midair. "What did you tell him, oh cunning one?"

Draco fidgeted as he fingered one of his wands, touching the smooth hawthorn surface. "I told Harry he had the sudden urge to give me a BJ because you were testing one of your products."

Fred turned to his twin, winking. "Very sneaky... also cowardly. We might decide..."

"... to blackmail you..."

"... if we ever need to..."

"... keep you in line," finished George, gleefully rubbing his hands.

"What's a BJ?" Ron walked out the door, holding the leather case in his left hand as he bounced the immobile Snitch on his palm.

Fred draped an arm around his kid brother. "Do not fret your pretty head, Ron. You have no need to know what a BJ is, unless Hermione takes Polyjuice."

Ron squinted at his brother. "You too? McGonagall is always hinting that Hermione likes to change her body to do _unseemly_ things. Mione's worried that McGonagall won't give her an Outstanding on her NEWTs and she'll lose to you." He pointed accusingly at Draco with the leather case.

"Granger is just afraid she'll end up second to me, as well she should be." Draco puffed up his chest.

"Conceited much?" said Fred.

Draco glared, a sarcastic reply on the tip of his tongue; but then Cho Chang greeted him. The Ravenclaw Seeker was walking next to Padma Patil, Blaise a few steps behind.

The blond scowled at his best friend who was whistling a melody he and Pansy had concocted called, _'Potter is our King for he catches the Snitch.'_

The Slytherin duo was mad at Draco because they felt he'd neglected them since the fight where they finally got rid of Voldemort.

"Oi, Ron!" Blaise greeted Weasley warmly, clapping his shoulder as he ignored the fuming blond.

Draco thought they were only pretending to be mad; he suspected they just wanted to vent because Snape was driving all of his students bonkers in their final weeks at Hogwarts, preparing strange brews. The Headmaster was still teaching Potions, being unable to find an adequate substitute for his classes.

Cho smiled brightly at her fellow Seeker. She grabbed Draco's elbow, kissing him on the cheek. "Beat Harry for me, will you, Draco? I want that wet-kisser to lose."

"Cho, please! That was long ago!" Harry sauntered towards them, coming from the Pitch. He put a hand on his glasses to shield his eyes from the sun's glare. Because exams were coming up, the only moment they could play to find out who was the best Seeker was just before sunset.

Cho frowned at Harry whilst Padma put a calming hand on Chang's shoulder. "You just had to tell Hermione my kisses are wet and she told everyone! Boys didn't want to go out with me, let alone kiss me. All because of you, Harry Potter!"

"Mione is not a snitch!" retorted Ron angrily. "It was Lavender and your sister." He pointed at Padma, continuing in a softer tone. "They overheard and spread that tale!"

Cho shrugged, she wasn't that angry. She just liked to rile Harry up, taking a leaf out of Draco's teachings. She was happy enough that her fellow classmates no longer blamed her for tattling to Umbridge. Poor Marietta had to bear the brunt of their displeasure now.

After they arrived at the Pitch, Harry soundly kissed Draco as the girls cheered them on.

"Want to bet something?" Harry cocked an eyebrow, a mannerism he picked up from Draco.

"No, Harry. I'm sure I'll beat you; don't need any bet to insure that."

The group saw several adults walking toward them. Sirius Black was striding purposefully just behind Remus and Severus.

The Marauder caught up with the Headmaster and whispered something in his ear. Snape shook his head, nodding grudgingly to the students.

"What were you telling Sev?" Remus looked around, a bit fearful that Dobby would suddenly appear. The fanatical house-elf had become a big fan of Sirius and had the habit of following the Marauder, together with the ever-grumbling Kreacher.

Sirius went to his godson, ruffling his hair. "Oi, Harry! Remy, I asked Severus if he'd prepared the potion."

"What potion?" Remus frowned worriedly; now that Voldemort was gone for good Sirius had reacquired his old habit of pranking people, aided by the Weasley twins. Molly hadn't helped when she insisted the twins had to finish school or face her formidable wrath.

"The one that will get rid of your lycanthropy." Sirius fingered his goatee, winking at Harry.

"You're just taking the piss, Siri, aren't you?" Remus thwacked Sirius on the head. "Now you turn out to be a Potions Master too?"

Sirius rubbed his hair. "Don't be so violent, Remus, or I'll tell Tonks! And for your information I got the potion from another reality where they cured lycanthropy!"

* * *

The two Seekers jumped on their brooms and rose to the air after Ron let go of the Snitch.

George eyed the Headmaster, expecting him to be the referee but Snape just handed a pair of binoculars to Cho.

"Really? Is there a cure? I gave up hope long ago." Remus stared wistfully towards the castle and the forlorn branches of the Whomping Willow in the distance, remembering all the troubles he had to hide his lycanthropy while at Hogwarts.

"It's something I picked up in another realm." Sirius crossed his arms as he gazed skyward, following his godson, hurtling through the air chased by Draco. The two boys feinted each other, swerving right and left of the brightly coloured stands as they followed the Snitch, glinting in the twilight.

"Are you serious?"

Sirius rolled his eyes as if to say, _'Aren't I always?'_

Severus coughed, his grave mien betraying no emotions as he quipped sarcastically, "Indeed. I have it ready, Remus. It's a pity that there will be only one... mutt left to mock."

Remus took aside his friend, whispering, "You prank everyone, Sirius. How come you don't prank Draco?" He waved to one of his favourite students, Luna Lovegood, who was skipping towards them moving in a random fashion. Maybe she did not want to disturb strange magical animals.

The Marauder winked at Remus. "Moony, I need Draco so he can save me in the future with the Elder wand... the Golden Bough... whatever."

Sirius smiled in a sinister fashion, rubbing his hands. "Once the dragon does that, I have a great prank to play on him, involving Moody."

Meanwhile, Luna had looked up at the sky, following the tiny figures of the Seekers. "Draco had better watch out for the _gobblemassels._ They come out in force around this time." She squinted at Ron and Hermione. "Well, who is going to comment the game?"

* * *

Harry was too busy ogling Draco's lean form to care much for the Snitch. In the waning twilight, Draco's hair sparkled as if it was spun of finest silver. The Slytherin's strong legs gripped the broom. Harry sighed, gripping his new broom. _Wish he had his legs wrapped around me!_

Draco's green robe flapped in front of Harry as the blond swerved to avoid the Gryffindor stands. Harry was startled, almost stamping himself on the canvas. With a swift movement of his hand, Harry leaned his body to the right and evaded that fate.

"Scared, Potter?" taunted Draco as he flew above Harry. The Gryffindor squinted at his boyfriend, sure in the knowledge that Draco was his, that they had a future together.

His painful journey had been worth it because Harry recovered his love and his best friends, together with Sirius, Remus and Snape.

"You wish!" shouted Harry joyfully as he sped towards the Snitch. He turned to smirk at Draco but at that moment the fluttering golden ball flew to Harry's right, evading his grasp as if it was a summer dream - or one of those memories that still haunted him sometimes. Draco dancing away in the arms of Boot and leaving Harry alone during their graduation ball as the Weird Sisters sang the song he hated with a passion, _'A cauldron full of hot, strong love.'_

Harry smiled when he saw his faithful friend flying towards him, her white wings spread wide as she flew over the southernmost hoop.

However, his happiness stopped when Hedwig hurtled past him, hooting angrily.

"I'm sorry I haven't been to see you, Hedwig."

_"HOOT!"_

"Been busy saving the world, again." But Hedwig glared at Harry, her wings flapping majestically in the air current that lifted her above the Gryffindor.

"You're crazy, Harry. Talking to your owl!" Draco drawled, flying next to Harry and Hedwig.

"Like I haven't heard you talking to yours!" retorted Harry.

"A word of advice, Harry. Treat her like a Slytherin."

Harry looked sharply at his boyfriend who sped away. He remembered Draco talking about his owl and Hedwig. Shaking his head, Harry decided to use that knowledge to win his owl's good graces, like a Slytherin.

"I reckon I wouldn't be adverse if you hooked up with that handsome owl, Chibigon."

_"Hoot?"_

"Really, Hedwig. You and he contrast nicely, light and dark if you get my meaning."

_"Hoot!"_

Hedwig gazed at her understanding master and flew towards the Owlery, hooting affectionately.

The Gryffindor flew towards Draco, hovering above the centre of the Pitch. Harry drank in the sight of his blond lover; the sunlight made him look as if he was enveloped in a golden glow. His hair in disarray - cheeks blushing and stormy eyes sparkling - Draco smiled lovingly at Harry and flew towards the Snitch.

This was worth all the trouble in the world; the love and companionship of Draco, his equal and friend at last.

Harry dimly heard Luna commenting from a makeshift magical amplifier. "After that owl interlude - Harry, you should pay attention to your pets - the Slytherin follows the Snitch, deftly evading the angry _gobblemassel_ that feeds off smirking boys. Though now Harry seems lost in his world. _'Hogwarts calling Harry!'_ You're losing the-"

Ron grabbed the microphone and shouted to his best friend, "Mate, don't let Draco beat you! I have plenty of confid-"

Fred yelled into the microphone, "Ron means he bet me 20 Galleons against Draco, Harry! Don't let him fool you!"

Harry smiled and waved at his friends below; tiny speckles of black, gold and red against the green of the Quidditch pitch.

Draco swooped down from above, holding in his palm the Snitch. Harry wasn't angry at all, but his Slytherin side reared up its scheming head and he feigned a glare, intent on getting Draco where he wanted him - on his bed.

* * *

After the Seekers dismounted from their brooms, Harry advanced menacingly on Draco, grabbing his arm and calling out for his helpful ally, "Dobby!"

_Pop!_

"What does master Harry want? The Malfoy boy has displeased Sir?" Dobby bowed, his long nose almost touching the grass as Kreacher popped just behind him.

"I reckon he has, Dobby. Please get us to my room."

The Seekers were transported to the Head Boy's room. The light of the sconce reflected off the mahogany bed, but Harry needed more for his nefarious purposes so he waved his wand and lit the candles.

"That'll be all, Dobby and Kreacher. Thanks."

"Wait, I might need Kreacher's help!" said Draco, but the house-elves had already vanished.

Harry waved his wand, casting on Draco and himself the protection charm Hermione taught him. He glared fiercely at his lover. "Draco, you broke my perfect record! You used my infatuation against me. I have to avenge myself!"

Draco frowned at the Gryffindor. Harry's green eyes were smouldering, he had crossed his arms and there was a telltale bulge in his tight white trousers. He looked intimidating, demanding, and very hot.

"What are you going to do about it, Potter?"

The Slytherin walked to the bed, taking off his billowing Quidditch cloak as he undid the buttons of his shirt, showing tantalizing glimpses of milky skin. Harry's gaze grew more passionate.

Draco looked out the window at the sun setting over the Quidditch Pitch; then he turned, throwing a heated look at Harry. "You're waiting for what, Potter? A bard called Beedle?"

Draco took off his shirt and let it fall on the floor; his chiselled chest appeared to shine in the candlelight.

Harry spluttered, finally answering, "I'll show you my Beedle!"

Looking at Draco's bare shoulders, his blond locks completely mussed, Harry was engulfed by a strong wave of tenderness and desire. Draco had never looked as vulnerable, as enticing and lovely as in that moment.

Harry waved his hand and wandlessly levitated Draco to the bed, ignoring the Slytherin's furious looks. He climbed on top of Draco, framing his head with his hands.

Smiling tenderly at Draco, he said, "I love you, my Dragon. Always have, always will." He rained kisses on those full lips. "You're mine, and I'm yours." He wandlessly divested Draco of his trousers, boots and underpants. A moment later he did the same with his Gryffindor uniform.

The blond made to speak, but Harry shut him up with a fierce kiss as he whispered huskily, "We belong together."

Draco couldn't help but react to Harry's invading tongue. His Gryffindor acted so passionately that heat coursed through his body. Harry's emerald eyes glittered with the spark of desire; his kiss was fierce, demanding. It was all Draco could ever want.

Harry caressed Draco's thighs tenderly as he moved them apart. "I'll have to fuck you into the mattress so you'll never doubt that you're mine."

He fisted Draco's engorged cock. "I see you're up to it."

Swiping the precome off the glistening glans, Harry bent down to lick Draco's ear, whispering, "Now open up, love."

Draco obediently spread his legs. Harry rubbed his rim with one finger wet with Draco's own juices, tentatively pushing it inside.

He gazed lovingly at Draco as he added another one, "It feels like years since we last made love."

Draco curled his lip upward in the gesture Harry loved, quipping, "A reality or two can't keep us apart, Potter."

Harry gazed for a timeless moment at Draco's long limbs, spread just for him. He wanted so much to submerge himself in that heat, to know Draco perfectly. Harry eyed hungrily the thick cock, wanting to impale himself, to ride Draco like he was atop a hippogriff.

Harry yearned to be one with his lover, to never let him go. He took off his glasses, putting them on the floor as he inhaled the heady scent of sex on the air.

The brunet bent his head, licking hungrily the tip of his lover's glistening prick as Draco mewled and groaned. Swallowing him whole, Harry made obscene slurping sounds.

After a few seconds, the blond groaned. "Stop, Harry, I'm going to…"

Draco didn't want to come just yet; he wanted Harry inside him.

Harry moaned around the cock, wet with his spit. He reluctantly let it slide down his puffy lips with a popping sound. He muttered a spell and Draco felt a cool liquid sensation coating him inside; preparing him for the invasion he so ardently desired. He spread his legs wantonly.

Harry looked at Draco's flushed cheeks, noting how his darkened pupils made his eyes seem almost black. Though Harry saw blurrily, he really didn't need his glasses to imagine Draco's perfect face. His lover's visage was indelibly imprinted on Harry's mind, engraved upon his heart by passion and magic.

Harry knew he would remember this moment for as long as he lived. It would withstand the passage of time, for he felt as he could grasp the world's magic by the ineffable sweetness and heat of Draco's gaze.

Harry hooked the long legs of his lover around his shoulders, lining his cock with Draco's entrance. He pushed softly, easing a bit when he felt he'd passed the tight ring. Feeling Draco's warmth all around him. Groaning when Draco clenched. Giving him time to stretch around him.

His prick glided along the smooth walls languorously, mindful of Draco's grimace of pain until Harry was sunk in to the hilt. The warmth and tightness felt wonderful. He saw that Draco had his eyes closed.

Harry savoured the moment, trying to stretch it as long as he could until Draco pushed his hips back, impaling himself on Harry's girth.

The Slytherin moaned as he fucked himself on Harry's cock. Opening his eyes, he glared at Harry.

"Move." Draco fisted the sheets and arched his back. "Harder, deeper!" Writhing his lower body, he speared himself on Harry's prick.

Harry lost whatever control he still had; pumping his cock in and out of the tight hole, he growled. His strokes were rough and hard, and Draco was slowly pushed to the edge of the bed, propelled by Harry's fierce thrusts.

Draco's cock leaked precome steadily as it throbbed; he wrapped his legs around Harry's waist until Harry dragged out his cock.

He edged away from Draco, squatting above him. Staring at the puffy, swollen entrance Harry rubbed his thumb around it teasingly. Draco moaned, feeling empty. Harry entered again; losing all control he pushed in and out, irregularly.

Draco wrapped his left hand around his cock, sliding his thumb around his cockhead. After a few more thrusts, Draco spurted thick, creamy streams of come over his chest. He clenched around Harry and the brunet came a few seconds later.

Draco was too tired to move. He sat up and yawned, finally reclining his head against Harry's chest.

The brunet rolled sideways. He wasn't done with the Slytherin just yet, he needed Draco inside him. He hungered for that which had eluded him before his journey, the freeing sensation of yielding to his demanding lover.

Harry murmured _Accio_ and caught his wand from where it had been discarded on the floor. He needed it for the spell Fred had taught him; an invigorating charm for when they needed to stay up late at night, before they sat exams. He unobtrusively cast it on Draco and himself.

Harry caressed Draco lovingly, bending down to lick his come off his chest. Biting the enticing pink nipples until Draco moaned. Pausing every now and then to lay kisses down the trail of blond hair that led to Draco's groin.

Draco put one arm around his neck as Harry continued touching his body, massaging the slim hips until he found his target.

Harry slid two fingers inside Draco's slackened entrance and rubbed them lovingly along his channel.

Draco felt his cock stir again, he spread his thighs and propped himself up on his elbows, looking curiously at Harry. It seemed his lion was insatiable.

Harry slowly knelt down, scissoring languorously his fingers inside Draco. He scooted on the bed until he sat astride on Draco's thighs.

Harry finally took out the wet fingers and slid them inside his own entrance, lubricating himself with his own come. He fingered himself, unmindful of Draco's astonished gaze.

The blond couldn't take his eyes off of Harry. It was the most erotic sight he had ever seen. Harry was prepping himself with his own semen, his eyes closed as he moaned. Undulating his hips as he fucked his hand, Draco could see the rim of Harry's hole fluttering around the fingers, indicating how needy he felt.

Harry's cock twitched and grew slowly, turning an angry red. Draco's mouth watered, wanting to suck him off until Harry screamed his name.

The light of the candles reflected off Harry's tanned skin; his unruly mop of hair looked as he had just been shagged silly as he moved up and down. Harry's green eyes opened and Draco noted they'd become dark jade.

Draco felt refreshed, up for the second round, though he suspected Harry's magic had something to do with it. He had the sneaking suspicion that the Gryffindor was becoming as enigmatic and tricky as a Slytherin. Draco looked forward to finding out Harry's tricks if it took him all his life, or one or two realities.

Draco said hoarsely, "Want me to use a lubrication charm?"

"No!" Harry moaned, eyeing hungrily the blond's thick cock, shiny with his come. "I see you're still wet."

Draco grunted as his Harry's hand wrapped around his cock, guiding it towards his hole as the brunet sank down. Harry leisurely pushed down until Draco was completely sheathed on his warm sleeve.

Suddenly Harry stopped and turned around.

The blond could hear the sound of the door opening, but he was unable to do anything, seeing as how Harry was straddling him as if he was a hippogriff.

Harry hastily threw a wandless spell to lock the door, glaring at it. He wouldn't let anyone interrupt his time with Draco, not even if it was Snape wearing pink trousers, a red clown wig and black cape. He looked down at the dilated pupils of the Slytherin, tightening his rim around the thick dick, enjoying the rubbing motions the cockhead made against his prostate.

Draco whined, pumping his hips upwards, hissing like a snake burrowing within a warm nest, "You're going to be the death of-"

He thrust upwards a few more times.

"-me, Harry."

The brunet nodded distractedly, not listening because he was bouncing up and down in the Slytherin's lap as he sought the elusive contact Draco's cock sometimes made against the nub of nerves inside him. Harry's cock dripped precome, making noises as it smacked against Harry's taut abs when he bounced upwards.

Nothing was heard but Harry's moans as Draco's cock glided in and out; Harry's dick slapping against his abs as he rode the Slytherin, their combined grunts and breathy whispers of endearment.

Finally the maddening, teasing rubbing of his prostate caused Harry to come, spurting semen across Draco's chest as he clenched painfully around the Slytherin.

Draco thrust a few more times, blabbing incoherently. Truly Harry drove him out of his mind in the most pleasurable way. He came with a shout.

Harry disengaged his sweaty, aching bum from Draco and lay down next to him.

The blond hugged him, yawning tiredly, he was about to fall asleep when he heard Harry muttering, "I wonder if Terry Boot has a huge cock, they say that the weedy-looking ones are hung…"

Draco sat up with a start, glaring at Harry. He poked his chest with a finger, "What!"

Draco prodded him some more and then kissed him. ""You're mine, Harry. You do not belong to other blokes."

He thwacked him on the head. "Or bints for that matter." He yawned and laid his head on Harry's chest. "You're mine, my only…"

Harry ruffled softly Draco's hair, listening intently until Draco's breathing became more regular. "And you're my Dragon, forevermore."

* * *

**June 1st, 1998**

Remus snickered softly from his place next to Sirius, who was pulling his goatee as he grimaced. Harry turned his gaze from the window and smiled at his teacher. "Is Tonks going to come for our graduation?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. Teddy is teething, so that might be a problem." Remus smiled proudly, thinking of the toddler. "Narcissa and Andromeda promised to help her with the baby if there's any problem so she should be here."

Draco sat on the couch of the Gryffindor Common Room, his eyes shying away from the garishly decorated walls as he smirked in triumph at Hermione. "Face it, Granger; I'm going to beat you!"

Hermione looked up from her book, _'Pithy Potions and how to brew them'_ by _Mero de Ador_.

"Don't be so cocky, Draco! It all depends on the results of Advanced Transfigurations!" huffed Hermione. "Though for the life of me, with McGonagall acting like that, I'm not sure…"

She trailed off, her gaze straying to Sirius and Ron playing chess. "We have the same marks right now, Malfoy. Why don't you go play chess with Ron and stop pestering-"

At that moment the students in the Common Room heard McGonagall shouting angrily, "COWARD! COWARD!"

The Fat Lady opened suddenly, muttering sullenly, "Of all the nerve! In all my years I've never seen a Headmaster so rude!"

Severus stumbled into the room, shooting a glare at the portrait. "I have a thinning potion that might work for you!"

The Headmaster turned an imploring look to the occupants of the room. "Quick, I need a place to hide! Minerva thinks I used my prerogatives as Headmaster to breach her wards and search her office!"

"Were you trying to find something, Severus?" Sirius looked up from the chessboard, sneering.

"It wasn't me! She thinks I stole one of her books!"

"Let me in! I command you!" shouted McGonagall from the other side.

"You and who else? Under whose authority?" shot back the Lady.

Severus looked at Remus. "Help me, former mutt! I prepared the potion that cured you!"

Sirius ordered his king to surrender. The chess figure muttered angrily, trying to resist.

The Marauder stood up and walked towards the middle of the room, Remus behind him as if they had choreographed their moves beforehand.

"Don't wave your wand at me!" shrieked the Fat Lady at McGonagall as Severus eyed the door, joining the two Marauders in the middle of the room.

"You can do that thing you do," suggested Sirius, pointing to Remus and himself, his hand swaying as if it was a leaf. He smiled craftily. "Take us with you when you disappear in thin air."

"You took the book, Minerva is furious!" Severus glared at Sirius whilst Harry squirmed guiltily, a gesture that the Headmaster thankfully didn't notice.

"Didn't!" shot back Sirius.

"Fine, go in! Teachers aren't what they used to be, in sweet Dumbledore's time!" moaned the Fat Lady as she opened the door.

The robes of Headmaster Snape whirled as he gyrated, holding the arms of Sirius and Remus. The three disappeared in swirling smoke that shot towards the open window, just as McGonagall strode imperiously into the room.

She looked around the Common Room, sniffing haughtily when she saw the chessboard. "Where is Severus? For that matter, where are Black and Lupin? I have serious questions about their _unseemly_ behaviour!"

The dumbfounded students stared at her as they shook their heads.

McGonagall snorted angrily, turning her back on the students and striding out of the room.

Harry, Ron and Draco rolled their eyes whilst Hermione muttered, "Men! Thankfully McGonagall didn't blame me this time!"

Harry looked toward the loose stone slab near the couch; beneath was the Potions book property of the Half-Blood Prince. George had revealed the spell to unmask its contents so Harry would finally get to see what Snape doodled during his student years.

* * *

McGonagall closed the door to her office with finality as Narcissa said, "Finally you've arrived, Minerva. We were going to leave without you."

Draco's mother was clad in a sumptuous green robe that complimented her alabaster skin. Her hair was arranged in a broad plait tied into a chignon at the back of her head.

Minerva nodded to Mrs. Malfoy and the men as she went to her desk and took a cookie. "I don't see the need for all that theatre. Did we really have to do that, Sirius?"

Sirius hefted in his hand a milky-white sphere. "Draco is very observant, not to mention Hermione. We had to distract them. Otherwise they'd be asking where we are going."

Severus glared at the Marauder. "It's your fault, Black! I have no desire to witness Draco's wedding to Potter. Another Malfoy lost to a Potter!"

Remus elbowed the Headmaster. "Admit that you want to see the future Draco as he ties the knot with Harry, Sev!"

Narcissa sighed dreamily. "I know my Dragon. He'll be very nervous; he'll need _two mothers_ by his side!"

Sirius beamed at his fellow Marauder. "I promised Harry I would visit him. I've been following his progress in wooing Draco away from Boot. I was tempted to offer advice, but-"

He stopped when he heard two loud popping noises, indicating the arrival of Dobby and Kreacher.

"Master Sirius!" Dobby bowed, his arms stretching to the sides as if he was directing the traffic in Diagon Alley. Sirius shuddered when he saw the strange egg the elf was holding; it had yellow, scarlet and violet stripes and it _twitched._

"Dobby has got hold of the manticore egg master Sirius wanted"

"You asked for a manticore, Sirius? Really?" Remus gasped.

Sirius mumbled, "Only to keep the elf occupied. I'm not crazy, Remus!"

"I doubt that, mutt!" growled Snape.

Dobby beamed whilst Kreacher mumbled, "The uppity elf will kill us all!"

Sirius motioned with his arms as Remus, Severus, Narcissa and Minerva rapidly approached him, touching his arms as he activated the sphere.

The egg opened just as the Marauders, the teachers and Narcissa disappeared.

"Wait, kind sirs!" yelled Dobby, vanishing after them with the baby manticore, Kreacher following suit.

* * *

**June 19th, 1998**

In their last day at Hogwarts, Draco and Ron were playing chess in a room in the first floor. They appeared to be evenly matched. Harry stood behind Draco, leaning his head next to the blond as he whispered in his ear.

Hermione was seated next to Ron, her arm draped lazily around Weasley's shoulder as she made suggestions which the redhead studiously ignored.

Draco intertwined his hand with Harry's, marvelling that their school days had ended like this. He looked up at Harry. Illuminated by a stray sunbeam, the Gryffindor's emerald eyes shined with the promise of a thousand futures. Draco pledged right then that one day soon he would ask Harry to marry him so they could spend the future together. Draco knew that eternity by his side would pass as swiftly as the flying Snitch.

He smiled and whispered a haiku he composed in the spot for Harry. Always for Harry. The brunet blushed prettily when he heard it.

"Blimey, you two should go rent a room at the Three Brooomsticks!" Ron snorted as he ordered his knight to E3.

Hermione whispered, "Ron, if Draco gets distracted, you're sure to win."

"Now that I think of it, there's nothing wrong with a bit of groping," said Ron, eyeing shrewdly his best friend. "If you get my meaning, Harry."

After several moves, Draco lifted his arms in despair. "I can't see my way out of this. I've lost the plot!"

Ron sighed, clutching Hermione's arm to his side as if seeking support. "You're right, mate. It's stalemate for sure."

Harry snickered, ruffling Draco's hair. "A usual ending, not!"

Draco touched softly Harry's nose with his own as Ron made gagging noises.

"You distracted me, Harry. Could've won with a hand tied behind my back," drawled Draco.

"Did not!" retorted Harry.

"Did too!" Draco crossed his arms, stomping his foot.

Hermione sighed tiredly. "You two will never change!"

Then Narcissa's voice came from the other side of the door. "Draco and Harry, time to go to the ball! I want to see you two wearing the formal dressing robes I got for you!"

"Come on, you lot. Teddy's getting impatient, is he not?" added Tonks as the noise of a gurgling, happy infant filtered through the door.

Draco stood up, wrapping his arm around Harry's waist as he called to his mother. "We're coming; hold your hippogriffs!"

"Ron, have you seen Fred and George?" Molly tapped against the door, sounding worried. "They so insisted on wearing those absurd pink robes. I think the fumes of their potions affected them."

"Haven't seen them, mom!" Ron opened the door and held it, kissing Hermione's cheek. "After you, my dear."

"Teddy, let me hold you!" cried Hermione as she went out, Ron behind her.

Harry looked around, feeling bereft. This was a room he would not be coming back to, now that he was leaving his beloved school. In a short while they would board the Hogwarts Express for the last time. It felt strange leaving his true home after the seven tumultuous years he'd spent there.

Draco brushed aside Harry's hair as he lightly touched the scar. "Don't look so sad, Harry! We'll visit first thing, coming back after the holiday mother arranged."

Harry shook his head. "The Bahamas sound too extravagant for me, Draco."

As Harry was leaving the room, Draco growled, "Can't wait to make love in the beach."

Harry blushed as Draco sauntered out of the room. The blond pulled the handle and the door slowly…

\--

… closes behind the Seekers, who will no longer play Quidditch at Hogwarts. Other Pitches and games await them, far beyond Scotland.

On the table, sunbeams lit the chessboard. Black and white, the figures wait for other students to play with them. Generations to come will study, laugh, and suffer at the school, now that Voldemort is finally gone thanks to Harry, Severus, Draco and their friends. It is the end of the arduous journey that began with the sacrifice of James and Lily.

The sound of footsteps and voices seep through the door.

"Ouch! Teddy bit me!"

"He likes you. Teddy even changed his hair to blond, didn't he?"

"Do you like your new robes?"

"Reckon I do, Narcissa."

The sound of voices full of laughter and love grows progressively fainter whilst the chessmen stand poised, ready to begin another game.

White against black, the kings eye each other warily. Light against Dark, the eternal conflict goes on, amidst enduring moments of joy and love.

Chess offers endless variations that are but a weak shadow of the infinite permutations of human lives. The game never ends, as long as people want to play - as long as imagination cherishes the endless realities which are only visible to the likes of Luna Lovegood.

This unusual ending has much in common with the _Ouroboros_ ring: the serpent bites its tail in the never-ending cycle which stands for eternity, and the phoenix rises from his ashes once more, ready to rejoin the game of life and play another match with his mate.

The story of the Seekers cannot be contained in one reality.

 

 

 

_sunbeams caress you,  
eternity in your eyes,  
our future beckons._

****

 

 

 


End file.
